Surface of the Sun
by Hearts of Eternity
Summary: A look into the lives of the infamous Twins, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, as they go through the evolution that will take them from younglinghood to the gladiatorial circuit, up to the moment that marked them as Autobots for the rest of their lives.
1. Prologue

Okay, seeing as Monster (my laptop) is out of commission for the foreseeable future, it's going to be as slow as ass getting updates posted for _As We Come Together _and _Serendipity Kiss. _I really, really hate the thought of that, but the quality of the laptop I'm working with now is but a fraction of the glory of my Monster. I really don't want to leave updating anything for too long (depriving my wonderful readers of material to read!), so I've sort of bent a little and decided to post this side fic here for something my readers can absorb for their own amusement. It can either serve as an expansion fic to the WE universe or as a stand alone. I've been working on it since the summer and have several chapters on reserve, so count on a fairly regular update schedule for the first couple of chapters. This can either be a huge success, or a gigantic flop. Only time will tell... *Cue ominous music!*

_Blindside and Wildride- _Both of them are OCs that belong to me, created for the purpose of being little Sunny and Sides' Creators. I know that Wildride's name shares a close resemblance to Wildrider's of the Stunticons, but I assure you that they are not the same mech.

_Wrenchwire- _mentioned in _What Time We Have Left, _he was the engineer Wheeljack apprenticed under before he was fully instated himself. Wrenchwire's specialty is framework construction, and despite the wide range of frames and other objects he's contracted to build and repair, he invariably calls everything a _'she.'_

**Surface of the Sun  
Prologue**

"Can you believe it? We're finally _here_. We're actually standing in the Emporium of the Allspark…"

"What's the big deal? You've been here before."

Blindside huffed at his sparkmate's utter nonchalance towards the true importance of the building they were standing in. "We've _all_ been here before, Wildride, when we're first sparked! That doesn't necessarily mean I remember it."

Wildride smirked, choosing to tease rather than drop the subject with maturity. "That doesn't say much when your memory banks hardly retain information from _yesterday_."

Blindside sniffed haughtily. "Smart aft."

Wildride laughed lightly. He let his gaze wander to the glittering crystal of the walls and ceiling that surrounded him, taking in the detail of the ancient, sculpted perfection. This was the place he and Blindside had dreamed of coming to for vorns; the Emporium of the Allspark at the top of the Crystal Spires at the center of the Council Pantheon, Iacon's central administration building where the Prime operated from. This was the place where the Allspark laid. This was the place where sparks were created.

"I can hardly believe our application was approved," Wildride finally said after a long, drifting silence.

Blindside instantly jumped on the broached topic. "Out of the hundreds of thousands of applications the Council must get, they chose _ours_… It's so hard to believe! I mean, we've been waiting for this for- what? Twenty-seven vorns- or was it thirty?"

"Thirty-four," Wildride said with a sigh.

"Ah, you're right, thirty-four," Blindside nodded, double-checking his chronometer. "Such a short wait; normally bots have to wait three times that for the Council to review the application, and wait even longer to hear if they were approved or denied."

"Slagging Council," Wildride grunted.

"You know how strict the rules are about requesting a spark; they review _everything_. But that doesn't matter any more, we're here now." Nervously, Blindside peeled back the delicate wrapping that encased the sparkling frame he held. It had been finished for vorns, every last detail of it, from the blazing red paint to the details of the little faceplate, designed by Blindside and Wildride. _"We're going to have a sparkling."_

"We must have done something incredible in a past life for Primus to have made this happen for us," Wildride said absently. "I mean, Blaze and Thrillride- they applied _vorns_ ago, way before us, and they haven't heard slag about their application yet."

"Yeah…"

"Or else, maybe this won't be such a gift," Wildride continued thoughtfully, his optics gleaming with mischief. "Maybe we did something so terrible in a past life that the only way the universe can properly punish us is to grant us the most terrible, irritating, troublesome spark there ever was-."

"Don't say things like that! You'll jinx us!" Blindside reprimanded, swatting his mate. "I won't survive if I end up with a sparkling that's anything like you! Imagine the rouble it would get into- not an astrosecond of peace-!"

Wildride ducked away from his bonded's assailing hands, laughing good-naturedly. "Even if the little thing turns out to be the spawn of Unicron, be glad we're getting a sparkling at all."

It had been an extreme long shot for them to put in their application. The Cybertronian population was carefully monitored by the Council to ensure their long-lived species did not exceed what their planet and surrounding colonies could support. That meant the process of bringing new life into the world was also carefully monitored, balanced against current needs, available space, population numbers, the number of deaths that occurred. Applicants who wished for a spark, be it for a sparkling or for a pre-program, submitted their application to the Council, who reviewed every minute detail of the applications, their lives, and functions in order to see if they qualified for something as precious as a spark. The criterion used was strict and narrow, the safety of the sparkling being of the utmost importance. The fact that both Wildride and Blindside were performers in a stunt circuit made the fact that they were approved all the more amazing.

Bright sunlight spilling through the clear, crystalline ceiling glinted off the towering golden doors at the far end of the room. A microbot stepped in, optics travelling over the small number of gathered bots in the atrium.

"Sparkmates Blindside and Wildride?"

A joyous thrill, similar to the wild feeling of launching into the air for an airborne stunt, shot through the pair.

"H-here!" Blindside squeaked. They jumped up instantly, making their way towards the tiny milk-and-cream microbot. Her optics ran from one mech to the other, probably curious of the flamboyant paintjobs they sported. Being showmechs, their paintjobs were unusually outlandish- one painted to appear as if shooting stars were racing across the night sky on his plating, the other looking as the night did when rainbows of fireworks were set off.

"Blindside, I presume?" she enquired to the shooting star-painted mech. Blindside nodded enthusiastically. Her gaze turned to fireworks motif mech. "Then you must be Wildride?"

"Yes, that's me."

She nodded and made note of it on her data pad. When she looked up at them again a small smile graced her faceplate as she reached up to pat Wildride on the foot, the highest part of his frame she could reach. "Congratulations on being approved for a sparkling," she said. "My designation is Copperfield and I will be guiding you through all the procedures today. There are a couple last interviews and checkups that must be done before you can receive your spark, so if you would please follow me."

She slipped back between the golden doors, Blindside and Wildride hurrying to catch up with the small creature. They were guided down a bright crystal hallway to a another set of golden doors, the crystal frosted delicately so that only the blurred outlines of the bots inside could be seen. Copperfield paused before the large doors, turning to smile reassuringly to the mechs following her.

"This is the interview and inspection room where I will be administering the last consultation with you and a team of medics will inspect your sparkling frame to make sure that everything is in order."

The grip Blindside had on Wildride's hand was nearly crushing the plating off. In his other hand, he held his little sparkling frame close. The poor mech looked as every other nervous Creator did when they got to this point; excited, scared, and about to purge his tanks all over the floor.

"_Primus, Wildride…" _

"I know, Blindside, I know…" Attempting to calm his mate, he sent a calming wave through their bond, only to have jitters race through his frame as excited waves of energy looped back.

Copperfield was patient in waiting for them, having escorted thousands of bots through this process during her vorns as an appointed guide in the Emporium of the Allspark. "There is no need to rush this," she assured them. "If you feel like you may need a little more time, you may go back to the main room and take a few breems to let this settle in. I understand that this is a very big occasion for the two of you."

"No, no, we're fine," Wildride assured. "I- we- _both _of us want this now. We don't want to wait."

The microbot smiled softly, nodding. "Very well." She input the access code into the door's control panel and the doors slide open, revealing an open room, welcoming and light. Several medics stood waiting with warm smiles painting their faceplates, their medical decals proud and polished across their bright chassis.

"Our proud Creators-to-be, I presume?" one mech asked, stepping forward with his arms open.

"Yes, indeed," Copperfield replied. "This is Blindside and Wildride." She turned to the two mechs behind her and gestured grandly to the gathered medics. "Blindside, Wildride, may I introduce you to the Honoured Medic Guard of the Emporium of the Allspark and the honoured Head Medic, Mend-Me."

Mend-Me bowed humbly, the other medics following suit. The simple act had such an old, formal air to it, as if they had been performing the exact same movements for vorns. They were as sincere performing for Wildride and Blindside as if this were their first time doing it.

"It is our sincerest pleasure to be the bots that are to inspect your sparkling's frame," Mend-Me said softly. With practiced steps, the honey-golden mech came forward and held out his hands, waiting for the sparkling frame to be handed over. Blindside was reluctant at first, looking from the precious package to the kindly smiling mech waiting on him.

"Go on, your sparkling will be safe in their hands," Copperfield urged. "And while they are looking it over, we will be able to complete the consultation."

"Alright…" Carefully, the small bundle was passed from one mech to the other. "Just- just be careful with it, okay?"

Mend-Me's smile was sincere as he nodded, tucking the little red sparkling close to his chassis. "Do not worry. I will treat this little frame as if it were the most precious treasure in the universe."

"It is," Wildride replied quietly, optics fixed to the tiny bundle. "To us, it is."

"Of course," Mend-Me said, smiling with his ever-soft, ever-knowing smile.

Copperfield twittered a few times, and then rapped Blindside on the foot. "If you would come with me, please" she urged, ushering the two mechs from the entrance towards a set of golden doors off to the side of the medical facilities. She input the access code for those doors and they shifted open, admitting the three of them into an office made entirely of frosted crystal, a normal sized desk and a set of golden chairs awaiting them within. While the two mechs took the empty seats, Copperfield scrambled up the specialized steps built into the side of the towering desk. Hopping onto the top, she trotted across until she could perch herself on the ledge, looking up at the pair of sparkmates serenely.

"Well now, we've made it this far, I think we can make it the rest of the way," she said cheerfully.

"Y-yeah," Blindside squeaked, practically bursting out of his plating.

Copperfield brought out her data pad once more, consulting it carefully before beginning. "So, according to this, both of you belong to a stunt circuit, Centaurie Tetrax Performance and Exhibition Circuit, is that correct?"

They nodded.

"How long have you functioned as stuntmechs?"

The sparkmates glanced to each other. "As long as we've been online," Wildride finally said.

"I assume that means both of you were raised outside of the Youth Sectors?"

"Yes, we were," Wildride confirmed. "In the same stunt circuit."

"I see." The microbot consulted her data pad again, checking for something. A soft laugh fluttered from her as she found what she was looking for. "Ah, yes, that's right. Stunt troops usually stick together tightly; they raise their own," she said. "I remember guiding your Creators, and their Creators before that." And their Creators before that, and their Creators before that; Copperfield had been performing her function for a _long_ time. Blindside and Wildride looked a little awestruck, but their guide pressed on.

"I presume you will be raising the sparkling in the circuit?"

"It is tradition in our circuit to keep our younglings in our care instead of letting them be raised in a Youth Sector," Wildride informed.

"Is that not an inefficient use of resources?" Copperfield enquired, bright optics trained on them. "The time it takes to care for any sparkling or youngling would considerably cut down on the time you normally would devote to your function, not to mention the disadvantage the youngling would be at to not have the same resources younglings in Youth Sectors would be privy to, nor would they have other younglings to interact with as they would have in a Sector."

"We were raised outside of a Sector and I believe we turned out well," Wildride replied firmly. "And, like I said, it is the tradition of our circuit to raise our younglings with us. It allows them to become better adjusted to our lifestyle."

"Are you being pressured into raising your youngling outside a Youth Sector by your circuit?" Copperfield pressed, being as thorough as her function required.

"No. This is a personal choice."

"Of course as long as you have not been coerced into this." Copperfield made note of it in her data pad. "Have you attended the recommended classes in sparkling and youngling care?"

"Yes, of course," Wildride affirmed.

"You have also downloaded the appropriate literature in regards to proper care?"

"Yes."

"Good, good," she said absently. "Having decided to raise your sparkling outside a Youth Sector, you are aware that you will be subject to regular evaluations to make sure the sparkling is receiving all the proper care."

"We have no problem with that," Blindside said, finally finding his voice again.

The microbot smiled softly, continuing to take notes. "I must enquire, though, because of the environment that you are raising your sparkling in, do you plan to pressure it into taking on the same function as the circuit?"

"No, of course not," Blindside assured earnestly. "It would be wonderful if it did decide to join our circuit, but if it's not in its spark to do it, we won't force it on the sparkling. It'll be free to decide what it wants to do, and we'll support whatever it chooses."

"Good to hear," Copperfield said. She went back through all the information she had already gathered. "Will there be any other sparklings around for yours to interact with?"

"Not exclusively," Wildride replied. "We were the only mechs approved for a spark, and the youngest of our troop has already been reformatted into his first adult frame."

"I see…"

"But we do have the Centaurie Tetrax Youth Sector nearby," Blindside cut in quickly. "We would be willing to take the sparkling there as often as necessary."

Without saying a word, Copperfield made a few more notes in her data pad. Just as the silence was stretching on to a painful degree, she finally looked up again. "The Centaurie Tetrax Youth Sector, you said?"

"Yes," Blindside said, nodding vigorously. "When we're not on tour, our main show stadium is only a short commute from the Sector, a joor or two at most."

"You're lucky to be so close to such a good Youth Sector," Copperfield said lightly. "Such a wonderfully managed Sector. I've been there several times for inspections and have had the pleasure of meeting their Head Medic and Head Engineer, both wonderfully skilled mechs, if I do say so myself. They've been there for vorns." She pushed herself up and trotted over to a normal-sized data pad laid out on the desktop; compared to Copperfield herself, the data pad was monstrous. Remotely connecting to it through her palm-sized pad, she input some information. Once done, she patted the data pad and smiled.

"This is for you," she said kindly. "In addition to the normal information we distribute to new Creators, I've input contact information for the medic and engineer at Centaurie Tetrax. If any problem should arise, contact them immediately. I'm sure Ratchet and Wheeljack will be more than happy to help you in any way they can."

Glancing to each other, Wildride leaned forward and plucked the data pad up. "Thank you."

"My pleasure," the little cream-coloured femme hummed. She headed to the miniature stairs on the side of the desk and trotted down them, making her way brusquely across the room to the doors. Once more, Blindside and Wildride were up and following closely behind. Back in the inspection room, Mend-Me and his team stood waiting for the sparkmates to re-enter. In the Head Medic's hands laid the precious little frame of a sparkling about to come online, newly polished, gleaming brightly in the cheery light.

"Passed the inspection with flying colours," Mend-Me said warmly as he deposited the little frame back into Blindside's awaiting hands.

"That's good," the mech cooed.

Copperfield slipped away from the group to the towering doors set deep into the thick crystal at the far end of the room. She stared up at the carved wonders, as old as the Emporium itself, polished and glittering as they did on the day they were created; never would the wonder be gone when she came to stand before them. And beyond the doors lay the Allspark. Glancing behind her, the Creators-to-be were already in awe of the last obstacle in their way to receiving their spark.

"Let the magic begin," Copperfield laughed quietly, laying a hand against the gold, the doors swinging open on their own.

With a gentle prod to the back from Mend-Me, Blindside and Wildride took the first steps in, followed by a serene Copperfield and a softly smiling Mend-Me. Behind them, the golden doors closed once more, shutting out the world beyond.

"It's… _amazing._" Blindside whispered as he stared up at the towering pedestal that took precedence at the center of the large, domed room.

"It is, isn't it?" Mend-Me sighed, staring up at the familiar spire of carved silver. He waved a hand to the wide spiral staircase that wound its way up the spire in a lazy loop. "Take the lead, if you please."

Wildride reached out and took his mate's hand, squeezing it gently before starting the short trek to the stairs. Only a few paces behind, Mend-Me followed at an unrushed pace, Copperfield comfortably positioned on his shoulder. The higher they climbed, the heavier the air seemed to become, thick with the thrumming power of the nearby Allspark. It was as if the walls themselves were whispering old hymns of the past, of powers and great wonders locked away within them. They were standing in the midst of great and ancient history.

Upon reaching the crown of the pedestal, a circular summit inlayed with ancient runes, three mechs already stood awaiting them. A trembling thrill ran through the nervous couple and they had to be nudged on by Mend-Me and Copperfield to keep moving forward. Their sparks fluttered. Their optics wide and stunned. Before them stood the breath-taking presence of Optimus Prime, regarding them with an expression that exuded warmth and kindness. He was a handsome mech, with fathomless blue optics and an aura about him that was both comforting and commanding of respect. His beautiful, intricate faceplate was open and smiling in welcome. To his right was Lord High Protector Megatron, brother to the Prime. He was a firm presence, silent and strong. A mech built for strength and power; the volatility of his frame was ominous, but kept in check with proximity to Prime. To the Prime's left was a burly mech, Prime Directorate Advisor Ironhide, more fondly known as the Prime Protector. He was another silent presence, with optics like deep oceans, comforting in a way that differed from the Prime and the Lord High Protector; he was not the deep well of wisdom that Optimus Prime exuded, or the powerful, commanding presence of Megatron. He was a rock, a steady wall, an anchor. Under Ironhide's steady gaze, he left one with a nearly palpable sense of protection.

Together, all three of them were a sight to be seen.

Nervous as pit, wide optics fixated on the Prime and his flanking mechs, Blindside and Wildride came to a halt where Copperfield and Mend-Me indicated, allowing their two guides to take the lead.

"Optimus Prime, it is always an honour," Copperfield said. Despite the fact that she had been uttering the same words everyday to every Prime from the very first orn she became a guide, it never got any less awe-inspiring. "Lord Megatron, Protectorate Ironhide, my greetings." They bowed to her in return of her courteous gestures. Mend-Me exchanged similar practiced lines and gestures.

Copperfield's delicate hand swept back, indicating to the pair of mechs huddled close behind her and the medic. "May we present Wildride and Blindside."

Prime's unfathomable optics surveyed the two mechs pensively, causing them to shift nervously, before a grand smile broke out across his majestic faceplate. "Welcome to the Emporium of the Allspark, Wildride and Blindside. Today is a very special day for the both of you."

"Yes sir, it is," Wildride replied quietly. His hand went out to lie atop the small sparkling frame his sparkmate cradled close.

Megatron broke ranks from beside his brother and slowly made his way towards the pair. "May I?" he asked, his hard optics softening as he peered down at the small frame, his clawed hands outstretched, ready to cradle the tiny bundle.

"Of-of course," Blindside stuttered, sliding the frame from his own smaller hands to Megatron's large, deadly ones. He couldn't dream of refusing such a mech.

"Such handsome construction," Megatron complimented.

"We were referred to one of Wrenchwire's graduated apprentices for the framework," Wildride informed proudly.

"My compliments to the engineer," Megatron replied, smiling kindly. The two proud Creators beamed.

Ironhide glanced to Optimus, his own optics softened by the sight of the tiny red frame. "Almost makes me wish Chromia and I could be approved for one," he sighed wistfully.

"The Council would never be foolish enough to place a sparkling in your care, not even if it were to be raised mainly in the Youth Sectors," Optimus jibed.

The black mech huffed stubbornly. "You're right. Doesn't hurt to wish, though…"

"Optimus Prime, sir, I believe we should carry on," Copperfield urged. A Prime was a very busy mech and sometimes it was necessary to remind him of that.

"Yes, of course. Megatron?"

The High Lord Protector nodded and handed the frame back over to the rightful mechs.

Optimus smiled, waving Wildride and Blindside closer, indicating that they should take up positions at his sides. With a grand sweep of his hand, the center of the great pedestal began to shift, revealing a large, hollow cavern below, and the glorious object that occupied the space.

"_The Allspark,"_ Blindside whispered reverently.

It was towering, immense, so powerfully commanding that it swept the air from their intakes. There was a draw to the large, mysterious cube. An unexplainable, ephemeral tug at the their sparks that tickled in their sparkcases, like the ghost of a touch, like the gravity of a great and powerful star drawing everything closer. The essence of their life stood displayed before them, beautiful, indescribable, alien, and yet warm and welcoming, real and yet mythical.

Optimus's chassis shifted, a seam opening and slowly splitting further apart. A hush fell upon the gathered bots as the most intimate side of their Prime was revealed. His strong, pulsing spark added a new light to the already bright domed room. His hands did not reach for his spark though, but below it, to the sacred object that separated Prime from the rest; the Matrix, held guarded within his own frame. With a muted click, the glittering Matrix was released, its crystalline centre catching in the light and throwing perfect rainbows across metal plating. Prime's chassis closed and he stepped closer to the Allspark.

Megatron and Ironhide took up their positions guarding Prime, one to the left side of the platform, the other to the right. They knew their duty. Even with the very slim chance any bot would be foolish enough to attack Optimus here in this sacred place they did not allow themselves to be lax on their duties to their Prime, brother, and friend.

Copperfield and Mend-Me also knew their sacred duties, standing rigid and at attention behind Prime and the Creators-to-be. They were there in case something went wrong.

A charge sizzled through the air, the atmosphere suddenly growing doubly thick, energized. A few stray ribbons of electric blue current ignited in the air, flickering briefly before fading. Optimus held out the Matrix as if he were offering it to the Allspark, reaching out with his spark for that sacred connection that tugged at his senses whenever he was near that great, mysterious life-giving cube. His hands tingled, the metal of the Matrix growing warm, coming alive. A living power throbbed through it, something real, powerful, almost conscious… Prime impressed himself upon the pulse of life and mystery, urging it outwards, forcing it to reach out to the Allspark, drawing out the nameless, ancient energies.

Everyone knew when the connection was made. The surface of the Allspark lit up in a shower of blue lightning, streaking over the sides and through the runes, concentrating most brightly before the outstretched offering of the Matrix. Carefully, slowly, Optimus drew the Matrix away, and the energy followed, growing smaller, concentrating, shaping into a small, pulsing ball of energy. Tendrils of light faded between the Allspark and the energy. As the last ephemeral tendrils fell away, a new spark floated ready in the Prime's palm.

Blindside stepped forward with the awaiting sparkling frame, his intakes frozen from the shear awe of what he was witnessing.

Optimus dipped his hand to allow the spark to slide home into its sparkcase. Before the spark could fall, though, a sudden thrill seized his arm, pausing him. A hard, wild, excited beat throbbed from the Matrix.

Something was about to happen.

The spark in his palm pulsed calmly once, twice, before exploding in a bright shower of wild, eccentric energy and light. A piercing shriek wrought the air as energy tore in two, cascading, flowing, boiling, raging. One half went one way, the other half zipping wildly the other. Utter chaos broke around them.

"Catch the sparks before they extinguish!" Copperfield shrieked, leaping from Mend-Me's shoulder in order to catch the first half of the split spark. Between her tiny fingers, she clasped the wild, frenetic energy, feeling the devilish delight this unformed creature was taking in causing such a panic. She ran for the red frame as Blindside fell to his knees, coaxing the spark she'd captured into its cage.

"Get the spare frame!" Mend-Me roared to the medics who'd come running in at the sound of the panicked frenzy.

As the mechs scrambled to meet their boss's demand, Wildride crouched low, watching with sharp optics as the second half of his sparkling's spark streaked this was and that, shining as bright as a wild sun.

A minibot came galloping up the pedestal stairs with a tiny frame clutched in his arms. It was an old model, kept in storage in the event that something unforeseen would happen. The paint was an old mottled-brown and the design was less than stellar. It didn't matter though, not for the direness of the situation. It was in good condition and it was desperately needed.

"Catch it quick! It won't last long! We must get it in a sparkcase immediately!" Mend-Me ordered, taking up the spare frame and rapidly preparing it for habitation.

Bright as the sun… Streaking this way… that way… Wildride tracked it carefully, coiling, prepairing... And then he took to the air, jetpack igniting to give him an extra push. Hands outstretched, reaching desperately, he felt his fingers close around untamed fire, vibrating life in pure energy form. He fell back to the ground with a practiced flip, but nothing as fancy as what he would have done in a show, rushing for the frame Mend-Me held out. The spark fluttered wildly, pulsing, beating, as if it didn't want to be held tame and caged. Wildride keened, whining quietly, desperately, as he urged the tiny spark into the chassis of the sparkling frame. The chest closed with a soft hiss.

Time felt suspended as the little frame continued to lay still, dark, limp.

"Come on, little one... we've been waiting for you," Wildride murmured to the frame. And then a gentle hum eased into the air. Optics slowly lightened to reveal blue light.

Of the older bots gathered, they knew… they could tell by their sensors… when they scanned each new spark's resonance signature, they were the _same_.

"_Primus," _Copperfield whispered reverently. For as long as she'd been online, she'd only seen the like of it _once_…

Blindside felt his spark constrict as the tiny being he held cradled in his hands reached out, staring at him in fascination. The mech smiled, bowing his head to allow tiny fingers to touch the plates of his face. He glanced to the side where Wildride sat with the other sparkling, holding him up like a prize.

Optimus cautiously laid a hand against Blindside's shoulder. "Your sparklings… what shall their designations be?"

Blinking back to the present, Blindside only thought for a moment before smiling brilliantly. "This one shall be _Sideswipe_," he announced. A befitting name for a little creature that had taken them all by surprise.

Optimus turned his gaze to Wildride. "And that one?"

The mech turned the sparkling one way, then the other, examining him carefully. The little being cocked its head to the side and squirmed, clicking and chirping. If he didn't know any better, he'd wager the little thing was glaring at him for some unknown reason. The sight of the sparkling's spark streaking as bright as a sun through the air still flashed brilliantly through his mind.

"Sunstreaker," he said eventually. "That's what we'll call him: _Sunstreaker._"

Nodding happily, Prime kneeled to the new pair of Creators, gazing at them with the warmest, kindest expression they'd ever seen.

"The congratulations are in order. You have _twins_."


	2. Chapter 1

**YAY! TRANFORMERS: REVENGE OF THE FALLEN TRAILER!!! **I'm posting this chapter in honour of the TF trailer _finally_ being aired on television for the first time today! I really, really wanted to mark this momentous occasion with something special, so this is my celebratory chapter here! xD

I realize that this chapter, and a few ahead of this one, are going to be heavy on the OCs, but they're a little necessary to see where Sunny and Sides come from. As the storyline progresses and they grow up, the focus will draw more to the Twins, allowing the OCs to fall away. A word to the wise- this is going to be a bit of a mind-stretching chapter, what with the introduction of Sunstreaker and Sideswipe's new troop. They're a real cast of colourful characters. ^^; Much unlike the Twins, who I'm leaving to flounder as they try to figure out who's who in the Centaurie Tetrax Performance and Exhibition Circuit, I'm going to write out a little guide right here for the readers to consult so they can keep track of the main characters and reduce the amount of headaches that are bound to go around.

_Wildride & Blindside- _Previously introduced in the Prologue, they are the Creators to the twins. Both function as stuntmechs in their circuit, performing many of the ground-based stunts. Wildride, as his designation indicates, is the risk-taker in the relationship. Blindside, on the other hand, is a little more subdued, though no less enthusiastic about performing.

_Flip_- the eldest of all the stuntmechs, he functions as the circuit's main director. He keeps everyone on schedule and makes sure every show goes off without a hitch... most of the time.

_Thrillride_- One of the troop's few bots configured in a femme frame, she heads the lightcycle performers- an eccelectic mix of fast, lightweight performers ranging from microbot to tall femme frame heights. Of all the performers, she's the most concerned with proper behaviour around the Twins.

_Blaze_- Bonded to Thrillride. A big mech, but kind and soft spoken; he functions as the pyrotechnic director for the troop, as well as second in command of the entire circuit under Flip. Often times, he's the big brother to everyone.

_Flicker_- The largest of all the bipedal mechs in the troop; he serves the dual purpose of being a launching pad in the shows, and being the cargo carrier for when the circuit goes on tour. He can be a little thoughtless at times, but generally means well.

_Flashdance_- The youngest of the troop; recently upgraded to his adult frame. Not the most mature of his peers, he's nonetheless a surefooted performer who takes on the most highly choreographed shows. Of all the performers, he is the least concerned with proper behaviour around the Twins.

_Skyfly & Clouddrift_- The two co-directors of the aerials in the circuit; it's questionable how much control they really have over their fliers... Anything that flies tends to be overly excitable. Both are microbots who use their specially designed frames to combine mid-flight for show-purposes only.

My most heartfelt thanks to my reviewers, **Bluebird Soaring, Crying Blue Rose 366, Elita One, blood shifter, Chloo, Soshoni, Silveriss, Bunnylass, Lecidre,** and **FunkyFish1991**. You ten are some of the most special people on the planet and I thank you all with my the most sincerest and loving thank yous I can offer. Cosmic love to you all. ^^

And **Bunnylass**, **Lecidre-** super excellent hugs of loveliness to the both of you. I just about melted into a big puddle of happy-goo upon reading each of your reviews. Thank you so much for taking the time to write such wonderful comments. *hugs you both* You two are such wonderful friends!

**Surface of the Sun  
****Chapter 1**

"Back up! Make room! Haven't you pit-hounds ever seen a sparkling before?! Get out of the way!" A dark-plated frame shoved its way through the excited, curious crowd gathered before the Centaurie Tetrax Coliseum. He was unforgiving in his brutality, clearing a wide enough berth through the corwding bot to ensure the pair following him would have enough room to get through, perferably without being mobbed. "I mean it- back up or I'll report you to Security Response for endangering a sparkling! Back the frag up, you half-bit glitches!"

Slowly inching their way behind the mech, Blindside and Wildride stayed in their alt modes, protecting the fragile cargo they were carrying. Even as they eased their way towards the entrance of their home, they could feel the restless movements of the twins straining at their protective harnesses. It had been a very long and arduous task getting them home; if it hadn't been hard enough trying to have Mend-Me and his mechs look them over to make sure nothing was wrong- their screeching had reached audio-shattering levels during the check-up - the news of the split sparks had traveled like wildfire. Upon setting foot outside the Crystal Spires administrative complex of Iacon, Blindside and Wildride were set upon by a flock of anxious and amazed media drones, while Cybertronians of all sorts clamoured to get a look at the twins.

Megatron and Ironhide were prevailed upon to escort the pair to the transport ways to ensure they boarded a private craft safely, and the High Lord even offered to fly along side until they reached Centaurie Tetrax, which the sparkmates were more than happy to accept for the sake of the sparklings.

By good fortune, Centaurie Tetrax Youth Sector had also heard of the amazing phenomenon that had taken place that morning and sent ahead a Guardian to escort the new Creators and their sparklings home from the transport terminal as soon as they arrived within city limits. While it normally was a Guardian's function to protect the Youth Sectors and wrangle up any escaped younglings who made it beyond the protection of the boundaries, the Guardian that had been sent to Blindside and Wildride was more intrigued by his temporary escort job than miffed about being turned into an errand mech. They bid their thanks and goodbyes to Megatron as he took to the air once more, and Barricade, their official Guardian home, took the lead to the coliseum.

Within Blindside, Sideswipe squirmed and squinted up at the towering building before him. "Home, Blindside?" he asked, making use of the rudimentary language files he'd been programmed with.

"Yes, that's our home," Blindside replied soothingly, hoping to keep the sparkling calm a little longer.

Sideswipe turned around to peer at the sharp, sleek form of his other Creator's alt mode, entranced by the bright motif of fireworks painted on him. "Wildride's too?"

"Yes, Wildride's home too."

"And brother's?"

"Of course it's Sunstreaker's home too. We'd never take you home without him."

Soothed for the time being, the small sparkling clicked tiredly and curled up in the safety of his Creator's interior. Instinctually, he reached out to that other half of himself. Sunstreaker reached back with his own astral caress. They'd only been alive for a short time, but they knew they were safe together.

"Back it up! Back it up! Let them get in their own home!" The Guardian barked, shooing away the crowd as they attempted to press closer. "Primus, this is why I hate outside the Youth Sectors- nobody listens! Just back up, will you?!"

With the way partially cleared, Blindside and Wildride opened the hatches of their alt modes, allowing for their Guardian friend to undo the harnesses strapping the twins in and taking them into his arms so the Creators could transform. Handing them back, the black-plated mech inspected both Creators and Creations for any wear or tear inflicted during the journey. Deeming them fit, he nodded firmly, turning to disappear into the crowd and return to his rightful place in Centaurie Tetrax Youth Sector.

Wildride cupped Sunstreaker close in his hands, allowing the tiny creature to curl into his palm. "Hey, Barricade, thanks for the escort."

The other mech looked back with a flat look, shrugging. "It's my function," he replied, transforming and leaving.

Blindside looked eagerly to his mate. They reached for the towering entrance at the same time, but it swung inwards before they even touched it. Wild, excited shouts emanated from within as brightly painted arms reached out and snagged the pair, drawing them in and slamming the doors shut. Voices mashed together as Blindside and Wildride's fellow stuntmechs all shouted and cheered at once; they were excitable on good orns, but now, in light of the Twins, they were an absolute maelstrom of chaotic happiness.

"_It's all over the networks! Everyone's talking about it!"_

"_I can't believe you made it in here without having your plating stripped from your hides!" _

"_Twins! Sparkling Twins!"_

"_You lucky damned fraggers!" _

"_Don't keep them to yourselves! Let's see them! Let's see the little things!" _

Ahhhhh, to be home again.

Shrill panicked trilling erupted from Blindside's cupped hands as Sideswipe finally had his fill of the clamouring around him; he'd been as patient as a newly sparked sparkling could possibly be, but all this was far too overwhelming! He whined, trilled, and squirmed uncomfortably. He would have asked for the noise to be toned down, but the sight of so many bots so close, all talking at once, and no protection between him and them like there had been inside Blindside... he was as overwhelmed as one sparkling could be.

Sunstreaker suddenly bristled, Sideswipe's foul mood hitting him hard. He reacted to it without knowing why. He was too young to understand that the emotions he was feeling weren't his; as far as he was concerned, Sideswipe _was_ him, and if a part of him was feeling bad then the rest of him was going to be prickly.

"Stop! Stop!" the little brown sparkling shouted, hoping he was accessing the right word from his lingual files.

"Yes, do stop crowding them- it was bad enough out _there_ without you lot crowding them in _here_," Blindside pleaded as he shushed Sideswipe.

Collectively, the gathered stuntmechs quieted, backing away to give the little ones space. Without so many looming faceplates, Sideswipe calmed marginally and allowed Sunstreaker to stop hissing.

"Brother?" Sunstreaker chirped, searching for Sideswipe.

"Brother," Sideswipe replied, peering across from Blindside's palm into the anxious optics of his other half.

Flicker, the tallest and most brightly painted of the troop, leaned down to get a closer look at Sunstreaker. "What's up with this one's frame? He looks so…"

Sunstreaker glared balefully, curling a little more tightly in Wildride's palm. Wildride brought the sparkling close. "Obviously we weren't prepared for another spark- the frame is just a spare. He's fully operational and all, just…"

"It's the _ugliest_ frame I've ever seen," Flashdance concluded flatly, only to have someone hit him about the knees.

"You shallow thing- be grateful the little dear has frame at all," hissed a femme, small and painted to appear as the aurora borealis. Her arms stretched out expectantly. "Let me see the dearspark," she ordered. "I want to see him for myself."

Wildride obliged, lowering Sunstreaker to the femme. She was so short she had to take the sparkling up with both arms, him being over half her own size. Sunstreaker fixed her with a stubborn look. She stared back closely.

"There's absolutely nothing wrong with this creature!" she declared firmly. "He's as handsome as any of you!"

Flicker crouched to take Sunstreaker. "Gee, Thrillride, I don't know whether to feel insulted or _really_ insulted." He balanced the little brown sparkling in his palm and looked him over, faceplate crinkling the longer he looked. "You honestly need to get your optics checked."

Thrillride huffed, offended. "And you need to bring up your files on proper social exchanges in front of sparklings," she admonished. "If someone finds out you've been saying negative things to the sparkling, you'll get him taken away. You _know_ how quickly they pick up things, and how strict the rules on sparkling care are!"

"Hey, hey, don't fritz at me- it was Flashdance who called him ugly," Flicker grumbled. "I'm just agreeing with him."

Flashdance snorted, leaping out of Thrillride's reach before he could be smacked again. "I was only saying what everyone was thinking!"

Blaze pushed his way to the front. Large, burly, and painted to look like an inferno, he was their pyrotechnic director, and one of the sweetest, softest spoken mechs in the troop. "May I?" he asked, holding out his hands to see Sideswipe.

Blindside, once sure the red sparkling was soothed and quiet, placed him gently in Blaze's outstretched hands.

"Well, aren't you the cutest little pit spawn I ever did see. Such pretty red paint, and little bright optics- one could almost mistake you for a pit-glitch," Blaze cooed at him, rolling the little sparkling around until Sideswipe was dizzy and choking on giggles.

"What did I _just_ say to Flicker and Flashdance?" Thrillride snapped, preparing to smack her bonded for his thoughtlessness.

"They were perfect little avatars coming home," Blindside sulked.

Flicker dangled Sunstreaker by an arm, poking him with his free hand until the sparkling hissed at him, kicking futilely with his awkward legs. "Perfect avatars, eh? That don't sound right." He brought Sunstreaker up to his face, dangling him close. "To be part of this troop, you have to give your Creators pit. It's an unwritten rule amongst us, you know? You have to be a bad sparkling to be a good sparkling."

"Don't tell him things like that! You're going to jinx us!" Wildride hissed, trying to jump for Sunstreaker, but Flicker easily held him out of reach.

"You hear me? The more mischief the better. We were all bad little sparklings once." In answer, Sunstreaker's sharp little foot flew up and caught the mech in the olfactory sensor. Even though he could barely feel the tap, Flicker jerked back nonetheless with a deep bellow of a laugh. "There, that's more like it!"

Taking Flicker's order to spark, Sideswipe gave an impish cry and squirreled his way over Blaze's hand and up under the heavy, fire-proof armor at his wrist.

"Whoa! Hey now! None of tha-ah! That's tickles! Ho- that tickles!" Blaze shook his arm out, sending Sideswipe flying.

"Primus! Don't hurt him!" Blindside cried, now scrambling to catch his other wayward sparkling.

"Someone catch him!" Wildride barked harshly, already feeling a headache coming on.

Performing a move normally reserved for the stage, Flashdance leapt into the air and caught the flying sparkling, tucking and flipping once before landing squarely before Blindside. Sideswipe never stopped laughing.

"Liked that, didn't you?" Flashdance crowed happily.

"Fly!" Sideswipe cried gleefully. Acquiescing to the creature, Flashdance tossed him a couple times, juggling him like he himself had been juggled when he was young. Just as he'd enjoyed it then, Sideswipe squealed joyfully now.

"Quit showing off, Flash," Wildride warned, hoping to snatch his creation back.

Flashdance was too fast, dancing away in a fancy jig. "He likes it, though. See?" He tossed Sideswipe higher, giving him a little bit of a spin for effect. On the way down though, an over-excited microbot got tangled amongst Flashdance's feet and he ended up fumbling with the sparkling.

"Please! Please be gentle! If anything happens to them, they'll get taken away!" Blindside pleaded, finally able to steal Sideswipe back- who appeared to have been having the time of his very short life.

Flicker clapped the mech on the back, passing Sunstreaker on to the next waiting mech. "When are we ever NOT careful?"

"_Always_," Wildride sighed. "That's the problem." It was one of the greatest downsides of being part of a stunt troop; their definition of careful didn't always follow everyone else's definition of careful. Or _safe_. Or _sane, _for that matter.

"We'd never do anything to get the sparklings taken away," Thrillride assured, although pointedly aimed a glare in Flashdance's direction. "We know how much they mean to you two, and you know how much they mean to us. Everyone's just really… _excited_ to meet them. It's only natural; they're twins, after all. They're the only ones of their kind."

Sunstreaker squawked agitatedly as two microbot acrobats, Skyfly and Clouddrift, cooed excessively. Nothing was worse than getting strung between two aerials; they liked to talk a lot, and about nothing in particular. It hurt his audios listening to them. Sideswipe immediately stopped his laughter as he heard his brother's cry, turning over in his Creator's hand to look down on his brother. Sunstreaker paused in his fit, head angling up to meet his twin's gaze. Something passed between the two, unspoken and intangible. Both sparklings suddenly hushed, simply staring at the other. Both suddenly soothed.

Witnessing such an unusual show, the older bots drew away, mystified. The distraction the occurrence offered was enough to allow their director to enter unnoticed.

"-Well now, it seems our two proud Creators have finally returned from Iacon," Flip crackled from the end of the coliseum's entrance hall. "You've caused quite the stir, you and your new Creations."

"Flip! I- _Twins_!" Blindside stuttered, motioning to the two sparkling now being presented to the old mech as he shuffled forward.

"Ah, yes, precious little twins," Flip said fondly, crouching first to rescue Sunstreaker from Skyfly and Clouddrift, and then plucking Sideswipe away from Blindside, lifting them up to be silhouetted against the lights.

"What rare creature you are," he sighed, scanning the twins with an absent air of intensity.

"They're the second pair of split-spark twins ever to be recorded," Wildride announced proudly.

"Oh, yes, that's right. Those other twins from so long ago- that was vorns and vorns before even I was online," Flip said, remaining focused on the newest additions to his troop. While being on different hands, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker inched closer to the other, seeking comfort in their proximity. Flip smiled fondly. "What are their designations?"

"Sideswipe and Sunstreaker," Wildride replied instantly.

"Beautiful," replied the director. He gathered the pair in one palm. "When was the last time they had any energon? Their optics look too pale for their energy reserves to be full."

"Administered some before we got on the transport to Centaurie Tetrax, and then a little more before we strapped them in and drove here," Blindside said. "Barricade said that that should be enough to tide them over without overtaxing their systems."

"What does a Guardian know? He's certainly no Caretaker," Flip laughed rustily. "I've had more than enough sparklings come through this place to know when their optics look too pale. They're practically drained of every last drop of energy they have- too much excitement for their first orn online. No bot could handle that, not even if they were pre-programs."

"Of course, Flip," Blindside conceded quietly.

"Are you volunteering to see to them for now?" Wildride asked of the director. He was tired, and he knew through their bond that Blindside was more than a little exhausted.

"I wouldn't dream of leaving them in anyone else's hands," Flips replied. "I'll dilute something and administer it, and then put them in recharge. The rest of you, go on and get some recharge yourselves. _Especially_ you two," he nodded pointedly at Blindside and Wildride. "We have an opening show tomorrow to present these little ones and I don't want to see a single sloppy move or dim optic out there. We haven't been practising all this time for nothing."

"But, Flip-!"

"No buts, Flashdance, I mean everyone. This is our time to shine; the world will be watching tomorrow to catch their first glimpse of Cybertron's only pair of spark-split twins. Any mistakes and I'll have you polishing the entire coliseum with your bare hands- blindfolded, if necessary."

With groans all around, the gathered bots bowed and slunk off, not daring to dispute their director's orders. They'd just have to wait until the old mech settled the sparklings and drifted off into recharge himself before they broke out the high-grade.

Flip hummed gently to the twins as he continued to shuffle along. "The world awaits, dearsparks."

* * *

Along with rudimentary speech, sparklings were also programmed with basic motor functions. Essentially, from the moment a sparkling is brought online, even one with the most basic programming, it is able to walk (albeit wobbly), and talk (if you could call singular words and broken sentences talking). Basic programming such as that enabled easier and more efficient care to be administered by the Caretakers in the Youth Sectors.

The programming also enabled Sideswipe to get up from the berth he laid on and drag himself to the other side where his brother lay in recharge. The berth was several times their size, most likely meant for a femme, or even minibot-sized frames; they were only the size of microbots. Everything was big to them. In fact, everything was _huge_ to them. Huge and new.

The room Flip had brought them to was relatively large, designated as the youngling pen for all the young ones of the troop to recharge in when they came. The walls and ceiling were scrawled with the glyphs of dozens of bots that had stayed in the room before- meesages from the past, some philosophical, some funny, some bizarre. Old graffiti marked the designation of a youngling and the designation they planned to take when they reformatted, like _Surefoot = Flashdance, _or some scrawled writing gave the author's opinion of certain bots in the troop, like _Flip is a Fragger! _and _Skyfly is Pretty! _Immature things a youngling might write when they hit their rebellious stage.

Dim, tiny optics gave the vast, colourful room a blank once over. It was all so… _big_. Big. Big. Big. And new. Everywhere he looked he saw something new; he could feel his processor adapting to the rapid input of information, his memory banks logging and retaining as much information as they could, before cycling around, shifting, broadening. He couldn't help but push a puff of air out his vents, some subconsciously running program vaguely informing him that what he just did was called a 'sigh.'

The place, the coliseum- their _home_, was just so… _quiet_ and _alien_. It felt as though he and his brother would never know the place even if they spent every moment of their orns wandering the halls. Of course, it only felt as if it would take forever to know their home when their concept of time was limited to the few joors before when they gained awareness for the first time.

Sideswipe sought comfort from the warmth he felt radiating from the other side of the berth. He didn't know what it meant, or how to describe it. He simply felt it, knew it intimately, as if it were an extended part of himself. This comfort was something he needn't ever question. It was as sure as the pulse of lift he felt inside his sparkcase. His other half was as ephemerally real as the mysterious, warm ether beyond the puzzle of the Allspark from which they had been drawn from.

"Side…swipe?" Sunstreaker croaked, rolling over to face the looming shadow.

Sideswipe cocked his head to the side, laying himself down next to his twin and pressing close to the other half of his spark.

"You are me," he whispered gently.

"And you are me." Sunstreaker felt it too, that indistinguishable tie between them that connected them without words or physical boundaries. They knew without sight, without sound, without touch or taste.

Hands reached out, fingers intertwined, and they drew each other close to revel in the vibrations their frames made together. It felt right to be close like this. It was instinctual; their sparks knew each other because they were one. They weren't supposed to be apart. Being apart, like they had been coming home in their Creators, made them feel empty inside. Not good. They knew so little of the world beyond each other; they had no idea of the sheer rarity of creatures such as themselves. They had no idea what 'twins' meant. They only knew that the two of them were the most important creatures in the universe to each other.

"We... are the _same_." Sideswipe whispered in quiet, broken Cybertronian.

"Yes."

"But we are not."

"Yes."

Being so new, with such limited programming, both sparklings were having a tough time trying to comprehend their own words, trying to gather their thoughts into proper speech. They struggled though, because what they were trying to say was important.

It was just as Thrillride had said; sparklings pick things up fast. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe already knew there was _something_ about them that was different. That's why everyone stared and whispered. They didn't know the world. They didn't know of twins. Of sparks. Of anything. But they knew of difference, and that it applied to them.

Their emotional ranges were still limited, kept to only the basic ones; happy, sad, angry, and fearful. Since this occasion did no seem to fit the first three available options, it left the twins scared of something they didn't understand.

"Is something… _wrong _with us, Sunstreaker?"

Sunstreaker's arms reached out, wrapping around his brother tightly. He brought Sideswipe close, curling around the red frame.

"Nothing is wrong with us, Sideswipe. _Nothing_."


	3. Chapter 2

Ah, well, I was hoping to have the next chapter of _As We Come Together _posted before I posted this chapter, but since the last scene is giving me a little trouble, I think I'm going to go ahead and post this anyways to give everyone something to read while I wrestle with Wheeljack on creative differences. I do hope everyone enjoys!

My greatest thanks to everyone who spared a few moments to review; there are no words available to describe how grateful I am for your kindness. You all inspire me to keep writing! Much love and sincere hugs to **Elita One, The Toe of Sauron, Bluebird Soaring, thepheonixqueen, FunkyFish1991, OptimusxElita4ever, Shizuka Taiyou, Chloo, Peechtree, crmdrtek, Lecidre, Silveriss**, and **Bunnylass**.

Just like last chapter, I want to throw in some extra special love to **Bunnylass** and **Lecidre**, to whom I owe so very much for their wonderful and heartfelt reviews. I swear, I've spent hours and hours going back through your reviews and reading them over and over, just for the pure elation I get from reading them. You two are the most wonderful creatures on the face of this planet and I hope this humble chapter dedicated to the both of you will be enough to convey how great my thanks is.

As well, **Lecidre**, who is not only an amazing friend and reviewer, is also a mind-blowing artist who has done a bit of fanart for my _WE series_ fics. Her most recent one is called "_Indestructable_", featuring Prowl and Jazz from my fic _Take Hold of My Spinning World_. If there are any PxJ fans out there, or TF fans in general, I suggest you peek into my bio and check out the link to that pic!

**Surface of the Sun  
****Chapter 2**

The coliseum was alive, filled to the brim with the many bots from Centaurie Tetrax and beyond, coming from far and wide to cram into the packed bleachers. There were patrons attending the festivities from cities as far as Simfur, Iacon, Kaon, and Polyhex. The shadowed rafters above rang with the excited, loud hum of the thousands gathered, optics glittering, paintjobs flashing, faceplates bright with excitement. Bright lights blazed this way and that, dazzling the onlookers, stirring them up for the show. The atmosphere was wild, excited.

Backstage was no better.

In many ways, it was, perhaps, _worse_. As with any show, the energy infused into each performer came to a peak, their optics alive, their sparks pulsing nearly double time. The energon in their lines was thrumming to the point of bubbling, evaporating into a gaseous embodiment of their excitemtn. An atmosphere of complete and utter chaos overtook any semblance of order amongst the Centaurie Tetrax performers. Never mind that they were practiced for this, the routines drilled into their processors, and each one had memorized their choreography like they knew their own frames. The reason for the unusually fresh and excited jazz buzzing backstage was that today was undeniably special.

Today was the day the stuntmechs of the Centaurie Tetrax Performance and Exhibition Circuit officially presented their newest additions to the awaiting, curious world.

No one needed to say it, but they all knew it; the world was about to see something they'd never seen before.

* * *

"Has anyone seen my lucky polishing cloth?! I need my polishing cloth before I go out!" Flashdance hopped about, squeaking in a panic. In one hand he held a high-end brand of polish he only dragged out for special occasions, while the other hand waved sporadically to catch someone's attention.

"Have you checked with Flicker?" Clouddrift yelled from the scaffolding above.

"What would Flicker be doing with my lucky cloth?!" Flashdance cried, outraged.

"I think he had had too much energon last night and he purged over in the left wing!" Clouddrift replied, sounding far too happy to be delivering such news. "He was looking for something to clean up the mess with!"

"That fragger!" With a roar, Flashdance galloped off.

"Watch your language, Flashdance," Blaze warned as he weaved by, balancing two little creatures on one broad shoulder. Flashdance apparently did not catch the warning, continuing to sprint away, spewing curses. The pyrotechnic director sighed and rolled his optics, flicking a curious glance to his charges. "If you two could delete what you just heard, it would be much appreciated…"

From the blank looks he was receiving, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had failed to pick up a single word from the exchange anyways. They were too overwhelmed with everything else that was going on to focus on one specific thing.

Clouddrift wiggled his sharp little fingers to the twins, smiling broadly. "That's the spirit, little ones," he said cheerfully. "Ignore Flashdance as much as you can; he and his lucky cloth will drive you bonkers otherwise." With that, the mech's thrusters engaged and he zipped off to find Skyfly.

Sideswipe tipped his head, catching a word that interested him. "Lucky?" he enquired.

Blaze chuckled. "Some stuntmechs are superstitious, and a lot of us believe in something called "luck"."

"Luck," the twins parroted together, making sure to record the word in their lingual files.

"Yes, yes, _luck," _Blaze assured warmly. "It's something you need to believe in when your function is so dependant on chance. But, well- luck _is_ chance, I suppose. There's good luck and bad luck, and when someone thinks they have something lucky, they are generally hoping that brings them good luck, or increases their chances of having something good happening to them. At the very least, a lucky charm, such as Flash's cloth, is believed to keep away misfortunate luck, bad luck."

"Everyone's a lucky charm," Sunstreaker conceded confidently.

Blaze chuckled, humouring his tiny charges. "What makes you say that?"

"You keep all bad things away," the brown sparkling replied, gesturing to the gathering rambunctious crowd beyond the thin walls of backstage. It was obvious he did not like the noise and lights.

Sideswipe took up his brother's awkward hand, the design older and less sleek than his own. "Why Flashdance's cloth lucky?"

"There's a story behind that."

"Tell us?" Sideswipe pressed eagerly.

"Oh, alright," Blaze conceded with an amused sigh. "Flashdance is our youngest, besides you two of course, and when a young one in this troop gets their first adult frame they're scheduled to be presented again, this time as centre showpiece of their own show. As luck would have it, a mech from a Polyhex troop came by to wish him luck, _Blurr_ I think his designation was. Fast mech, I gotta tell you. Anyways, on his way out, he dropped his polishing cloth and never noticed, so Flashdance snatched it up instead. In some twisted way, he thinks it grants him luck if he polishes himself with it."

"Does it?" Sideswipe wondered, interested in the idea of luck and chance.

"Well…" Blaze considered the possibility. "He's never fallen on his faceplate in front of a crowd before, so I'd say so."

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker glanced to each other, cementing a new emotion between them that had just been satisfied. _Curiosity_. They wanted to know more about this 'luck'. Unfortunately, Blaze received an open-channel message that the show was about to begin. He offered the two sparklings a thoughtful smile, but, for now, their pressing questions would have to wait.

"Tomorrow, if you're not too overwhelmed from today, I might be able to throw in a little extra into your downloads about superstitions and luck. An extra byte or two won't hurt," he acquiesced, moving towards the gathering in the open area backstage. Flip was there, along with Wildride and Blindside, and all the other stuntmechs. Flashdance was notably nursing his lucky cloth while cursing out Flicker, who was laughing at him.

Wildride crowed happily upon seeing Blaze, sweeping his sparklings up and tossing them lightly. "We're going to put on one pit of a show for you two! Biggest presenting show we've ever done!"

Blindside was just as exuberant, trilling happily as he attempted to inform the two sparklings of what was going to happen, but much of the terms he was using were not included in their initial base of vocabulary so they barely understood him. Upon realizing why the little ones were staring at him as if he'd grown another head, Blindside leaned in and bumped his big forehead against their tiny heads, blowing hot air through his vents so they laughed and twisted away.

"Everyone will love you, I promise," he said, his optics light and sparkling. "This'll be the best show anyone has ever seen."

A huge hexiped bot laughed. "It's not every orn we get sparklings, let alone _twins_. They deserve something special."

Thrillride revved lightly as she leaned by the opening to the arena, peering out at the awaiting crowd. "They're getting anxious out there," she announced. "We should get the show started."

Flip clapped his hands, instantly gathering attention. "I know that all of you are well aware of how important this presenting show is; all of you were presented when you first onlined, and you've all presented for new sparklings that have come after you. This is Sideswipe and Sunstreaker's first official greeting to the world, and the stands are packed with bots wanting to get their first look at our twins. They've garnered enough fame as it is being what they are, and we've got to outdo that; we're stuntmechs for Primus' sake! We're going to put on a spectacular that will put all other presenting shows to shame. I don't want to see one misstep or one fumbled flip out there, and if I so much as catch a glimpse of a flier wavering in the air, so help me Primus-!"

"We know, we know- we'll be polishing the arena blindfolded," Flashback cut in with a roll of his optics.

Flip snorted, mouthplates pursed. "Exactly. And if I see _you-," _he stared pointed at Flashdance, "wavering out there, you'll be blindfolded with your hands tied behind your back."

Flashdance cringed, backing away, while the others dissolved into warm laughter, familiar with the director's threats. They'd been hearing them since they were sparklings.

Sunstreaker leaned against Wildride's fingers, watching carefully. He understood what was being said now at a bare minimum. "What do we do?" he enquired.

"Absolutely nothing," Wildride assured, smiling grandly. "We'll take care of the show; you two will be the grand finale."

"Okay..." Sunstreaker considered the words, suddenly aware of a foreign feeling twisting within him. Upon closer inspection, he realized that he wanted to go out there with everyone, even though, in his own mind, he _didn't_ want to. Such a strange feeling, like an extra sense. Another awareness. Something that grated against the grain. He glanced to the hand that held his, and then followed it up to the joining shoulder to the faceplate watching him. Sideswipe wanted to be out on stage, not him, but he felt the desire to be out there regardless. It was so confusing. It almost hurt. A shot of pain crossed between them because of the confusion and their hands unlocked as if they'd been burned. The exchange was not lost on those who'd been watching.

"I want to go out there," Sideswipe whined quietly.

Blindside chuckled, running the tip of his finger over the tiny sparkling's head. "You will, at the end."

"I want to go _now_."

Sunstreaker quivered lightly, shrinking back. He didn't like the idea of all those strange bots staring at him like they had yesterday. They didn't look at him the same way as they did his brother- it had something to do with the word they called him… "_ugly." _He didn't like the word. They stared at him because he was _ugly_.

"I don't want to go out," he mumbled miserably.

"You don't want to, little one?" Wildride asked lightly, bringing him up to faceplate level to peer at him worriedly.

"No. Don't want to."

Blindside looked from Sideswipe to Sunstreaker, then glanced up to Wildride. "Maybe this _is_ a little too overwhelming for them," he said at length. Despite Sideswipe's eagerness, he could not set aside Sunstreaker's obvious objections. "They are only an orn old, after all... We should wait until they're older."

Flip took the sparklings in hand. "Nonsense," he announced firmly. "Every sparkling in this troop is presented this way; it's the way we've always done it, and that's how we will continue to do it. No exceptions."

"But, Flip, they're so young-." Blindside pressed.

"So were you, and you turned out just fine," Flip countered reasonably.

"That's debatable," Wildride snorted, only to have to duck as his mate took a swing at him.

"Oh, Flip, please reconsider. Sideswipe is willing, but Sunstreaker doesn't want to- can't we make an exception today and just allow Sideswipe to come out? It's mean of us to enforce this on a sparkling so young when they don't know what's happening and they can't stop it on their own," Blindside insisted, glancing from side to side for backup from his fellow stuntmechs. They were looking to each other unsurely, shifting but refusing to step up; they'd all been presented this way whether they liked it or not. That was simply the way of stuntmechs in show troops.

"I'm truly sorry for this, Blindside, but I'm not about to change my mind on hundreds of vorns worth of tradition for the sake of one sparkling," the director said sincerely, levelling his gaze with the shooting star motif mech. "Most of you had your own objections when you all came, but you got over it as everyone else has. Sunstreaker will just have to do the same. The seats are packed and we have every network on the planet broadcasting from our arena; there is no way we can change the program on such short notice. This show is going on whether you like it or not."

"No!" Sunstreaker crowed.

"Yes!" Sideswiped cried.

Flip hoisted them to his shoulder, eyeing his troop. "I'm going to count to three and if this show doesn't start by the time I'm done counting, there is going to be pit to pay. One-."

Instantly, the gathering scrambled, rushing off to their respective places.

Blaze hesitated for a moment before he left. "I could take them to the tech booth, if you'd like, Flip," he offered, hands out for the sparklings. "Me and Lightshow wouldn't mind keeping an optic on them."

"No, no, you have enough to look after making sure everything detonates when and how it's supposed to. I'll see to the twins," the old mech said dismissively, shuffling away with Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. "They're going to get the best seats in the house."

"I'm sure they will," Blaze chuckled.

* * *

Sideswipe pressed his faceplate to the crystalline window of the observatory box, nearly dislodging the energon feed that was connected directly to his tanks. He ignored the diluted fluid dripping into his tanks, more focused on watching his beloved Creators zip about in the arena, surrounded by screaming, cheering legions of bots. Above and around them, the other stuntmechs carried out their own routines, throwing the crowd into a further fervour.

Skyfly and Clouddrift swung in from opposite ends of the arena, launching themselves from the trapezes that hung from the ceiling. Thrusters engaged to carry them gracefully through the air, spewing out clouds of coloured exhaust to be "Ohh-ed" and "Ahhh-ed" over.

"They going to crash!" Sunstreaker cried, snapping up so quickly that his own feed tube pulled loose and sprayed the window with fluid.

"Just watch," Flip chuckled, wiping up the mess and reconnecting the tube.

The twins watched avidly, fearing the worst as the two microbots flew closer and closer to each other. And then, as their outstretched hands brushed one another, something amazing happened. Their hands melded together, their bodies suddenly collapsing and joining together. For a split second, there was only one mech floating suspended in mid-air, performing a few flips, a twist, and then the combination reversed itself with a bright flash of fireworks going off overhead, and the two mechs went spinning in opposite directions.

"Awesome!" Sideswipe cheered ecstatically. "How'd they do that?!"

"They're combiners," Flip informed them proudly. "It's a new kind frame design. The same mech who designed your frame," he tapped Sideswipe, "has been developing the tech- ah, what did he call it? Gestalt? Yes, gestalt tech... he's been working in it for vorns. Clouddrift and Skyfly volunteered to be test subjects for the initial frames."

"They're one, like us?" Sunstreaker enquired, his optics wide.

"Not quite, but one in a sense," Flip allowed. "Oh, look- there goes Blindside and Wildride-."

Instantly, the twins were glued to the window once more, searching excitedly for their Creators. They cheered as the sparkmates laucnhed themselves from a track below to catch the falling aerial bots at the combiners finished their act.

"They're amazing," the brown sparkling sighed, enchanted by the beauty of the choreography.

Sideswipe was more taken with the trick itself rather than the awe of the beauty. "I want to do that!"

"Maybe someday," Flip laughed.

The act continued, bright fireworks going off around the floor as the ground divided and a great metal cage rose up. With a screech of tires, Thrillride and a small team of lightcycle stuntmechs came careening into sight from offstage. Flashdance's bright alt mode zoomed in, circling around and around a few times with Thrillride's team before throwing himself into the cage and reverting to bipedal mode. Hard, pounding rhythms began to throb out from speakers located around the arena. The pulse vibrated the floors and walls, sending the beat through the crowd's frames. It was an alien beat recorded from Blaster's informational hub- something that made a bot want to _move_. Flashdance, at the command and mercy of the music, began to step in time to the beat, bending, twisting, and flipping to the pounding pulse. He used the cage for leverage as he flipped, spun, and dived, tumbling here and there like a neon streak of wild lightning. Multi-coloured lights shone brightly over the cage he danced, blinking, flashing, all in sync to his choreographed ecstasy.

Thrillride and her group zoomed around and around, driving in different formations, waiting. They drove like a pack of animals, their engines growling like beasts circling prey. Their movements were quick, timed, choreographed to perfection. Some bots paired up, driving tail-to-nose with each other, the front one transforming in an instant to leap over the one behind, landing in alt mode once more to repeat the performance. Some reared to one wheel. Some spun. Some jumped. Some spewed brightly coloured smoke in their wakes. The pulse of the arena hit a high as the lights exploded in frenzy; their cue to begin the true act. The cage door swung open and the entire troop of lightcycles drove in.

"What they do now?!" Sideswipe asked excitedly, jumping up and down.

"You'll see," Flip insisted, laying a hand to the pair to ensure their feeding tubes were not dislodged again. With a roar that rattled the viewer's box, the lightcycles began to circle wildly around the cage, faster and faster, in pure chaos. Flashdance gave a roar of his own, throwing himself into the mix, twisting and jumping as he pleased through the frenzy.

"They get hurt!" Sunstreaker whined, shuttering his optics.

Sideswipe shivered with excitement. "Watch! Watch!"

"No! Don't want see them squished!"

Sideswipe huffed, excitement leaking through their bond and saturating his brother. His bright optics caught sight of the new mechs that had just appeared in the arena, having swung around from the backstage where they'd thrown the aerials. "Sunstreaker! Sunstreaker! Blindside and Wildride!"

At this, Sunstreaker cracked a single optic open.

Flip kneeled down close behind the little sparklings, peering out the window from their height. "This is where the show gets interesting."

Wildride and Blindside quickly began to pull laps around the outside of the circular cage, faster and faster until they became dark blurs. A sudden scream of forced, rapid transformation wrought the air as the two mechs leapt into their bipedal modes, landing on top of the cage, swinging their weight wildly from side to side. The crowd began to gasp and shriek as the cage started to rock and shift.

"They get hurt!" Sunstreaker squawked indignantly as he watched his Creators swing madly, wrenching the cage from side to side.

"This is supposed to happen," Flip assured them. "They've practised this act long and hard for this moment."

With a metal groan, the cage dislodged completely. Its contents roared even louder as Flashdance's leaping and bounding grew even more daring as he attempted to compensate for the wild rolling. Thrillride and her team kept their rounds fast and furious, seemingly paying no mind to the mech dashing between them. Wildride crowed excitedly, balancing precariously on top as he ran with the cage, Blindside darting this way and that trying to keep the thing on course. They were grinning at each other, completely in their element as they coordinated with one another through their sparkbond. They were perfect for this stunt, so in tune to their bond they could predict each other's movements.

Sideswipe was practically having an excitement-induced meltdown, chirping and trilling for his Creators as they rolled and ran. "I want to do that! I want to do that!"

Sunstreaker shook his head, terror written clearly across his faceplate. "I don't!"

Flip laughed and clapped, pleased that the Death Roll act was carrying out so flawlessly. They'd been practicing the act for a long time now and it was the first time being preformed in front of a crowd. It was also the first time any of them had preformed it without someone getting run over; a good omen for the rest of the show, if he did say so himself.

Glancing over at Flip, Sideswipe grinned even wider as he realized the old mech was immersed in the show. His gaze darted to Sunstreaker, and then his hand darted out and brushed against the mottled metal of his brother's hand. Inexperienced with their bond as they were, it shocked the both of them when the message Sideswipe meant to convey aloud came through in the touch.

_Let's go!_

Sunstreaker wrenched back, shaking his head vehemently. _Don't want to_

Sideswipe's faceplates furrowed, trying to gauge his brother as best he could. Awareness of the other burned through them hotly. _Please? _

_Sideswipe~_

_Pleaseeee~? _Sideswipe's pure desperation to have fun like the other mechs was what did Sunstreaker in. The desire was contagious, and with Flip still seemingly distracted, he nodded. They fumbled quietly with the feeding tubes, tugging them messily from fronts and poking their open reservoir valves until they closed automatically. In a matter of breems, they were gone.

Unbeknownst to them, Flip was well aware of their parting. He watched them out of the corner of his optic, smiling softly. Never, in the history of the troop, had a presenting show ever gone off without something going wrong, and today was not going to be the orn they broke that perfect record.

"Have fun, you two."

* * *

"Up! Let's go up!" Sideswipe announced as he and his brother scampered down the hall, growing more and more lost as they ran.

"Where Skyfly and Clouddrift are?" Sunstreaker asked warily.

"Yeah! I wanna be in the air! Right over Wildride and Blindside!"

"We get hurt." They took a random turn, hoping the hall would take them backstage.

"It'll be fun!" One of them tripped, bounced off the floor, and was up again with a yelp, trying to utilize his motor functions properly when everything else felt overwhelmed. They couldn't walk properly yet, still struggling to break in their new frames. The initial stiffness from un-used limbs remained in their movements, making it hard to balance and move.

Sunstreaker came to an abrupt halt as he recognized the area they were wandering into- it was a part of the backstage Blaze had shown them earlier. "Everyone see me if we go up."

"So? You heard Thrillride, you handsome!" Sideswipe urged, yanking his brother along when he refused to budge.

"You heard Flashdance. I'm ugly."

Sideswipe tipped his head, accessing both words and their definitions, comparing them carefully. He then snorted. "Can't be ugly and handsome at same time!" he retorted, beginning to haul himself up the fine-rung ladder he'd seen Clouddrift perched on briefly before the show.

"I'm ugly," Sunstreaker concluded miserably.

"_No_, you handsome!" Sideswipe cried exasperatedly. Even though he could feel his brother's reluctance to climb, his own desire was too great and too infectious. Soon enough, the brown sparkling was scrambling up as well, helpless to resist.

"I'm ugly."

"You handsome!"

"I'm ugly!"

"You handsome!"

"_I'm Ugly!"_

"_You Handsome!_ Times infinity! Ha!"

Sunstreaker pouted, but said nothing.

Once on the catwalk above the arena, the noise from below was deafening. The lights and heat and fireworks threw the shadowed area of the rafters into a hazing, flashing wild maze.

Sunstreaker took his brother's hand. "Where do we go?"

"Out there!" Sideswipe cried, gesturing grandly to the launching platforms aerial bots would perch on before throwing themselves out into the show. "I want to fly!"

Sunstreaker recoiled in terror. "We can't fly! We not built to!"

"We don't know unless we try!"

Sunstreaker attempted to run, but his foot caught on a length of cabling and he stumbled. Stars erupted before his optics as the side of his head banged into the corner of a control box. The entire catwalk beneath their feet lit up as firework after firework detonated.

"Awesome! How you do that?!" Sideswipe cheered, running for his brother.

Sunstreaker shrugged, backing away from the controls quickly. He might have scrambled something when he hit his head- things were looking a little blurry. "Don't know. Don't want to find out. Let's leave."

"No way!"

"_Please!" _He took his hand away from the side of his head, seeing brown flakes of paint coming off in his palm.

"Not until we learn to fly!"

* * *

Lightshow, who was appropriately the lighting director, leaned over to Blaze curiously, optics narrowed as he watched the fireworks detonate. "Is there a glitch in the timing sequencer?"

Blaze was already flying to find out. "No, everything's coming up clean. Says here someone tripped the manual detonation."

"One of the aerials?"

"They know better," Blaze sighed. Nonetheless, he opened a channel to Skyfly, who was waiting in the wings for his cue. "Someone trip up there?"

There was a curious pause. _"Blaze? No, why?" _

"Pyrotechnics went off."

"_Noticed that- I thought it was just a change in scheduling." _

"No, someone tripped them manually. You mind making sure no unwelcomed guests are up there?"

"_Sure, no problem." _

Lightshow still had his optics fixed on the catwalk, catching a flash of red and then a flash of brown. "Oh no, no, no-"

"What is it?"

"Contact Flip!" Lighthouse ordered.

"What? Why?"

"The twins! The twins are up there!"

Blaze pressed against the window of the tech booth, catching the same flash of red and brown that alerted Lightshow. "The pit-?!" he scrambled to open a channel to the director. "Flip! Flip, where are the twins?!"

The old mech sounded way too calm as he responded. "_They must have wandered off somewhere." _

"Where?!"

"_Perhaps to get a better look at things?" _

"Primus, Flip, I think they're on the catwalk!"

As if to confirm his suspicions, Skyfly suddenly opened another channel. _"You're never going to believe this! Sideswipe and Sunstreaker are up here!" _

"Catch them!" Lighthouse ordered wildly.

"_They're on the other side of the arena; I won't make it in time! And they're heading for the platforms_!"

"The platforms?!" Lighthouse howled.

"What are we going to do?!" Blaze cried.

"_Hope to Primus they don't want to fly,_" Flip replied, still entirely too calm.

* * *

"I have really bad feeling about this," Sunstreaker whispered quietly, shying away from the open platform they were nearing. Sideswipe was intent on his goal, and the tug he was impressing between them was enough to physically yank his twin along.

"I want to fly like aerials."

"I don't."

"Then stop following me."

"_I can't." _It was impossible for either one of them to walk away now. They were too tangled together to allow much space between them.

Sideswipe chirped stubbornly, shifting from one foot to the other. "I _really_ want to fly. I want to be in show with Wildride and Blindside!"

"We get to be in it at the very end!" Sunstreaker tried to haul his brother away, but found Sideswipe resisting adamantly. "We only an orn old- we don't know anything yet!"

"We know lots!" Sideswipe protested.

"We know nothing!" Sunstreaker shouted back. "If we not careful, we get hurt. You heard what others said yesterday- if we not careful, we get taken away."

That was enough to give Sideswipe pause, his wide optics dimming. "I never thought of that."

"_Duh_," his twin snorted. "When we older, maybe they teach us some tricks. Just not now."

"I want to learn _now_."

"_Sideswipe! Sunstreaker! Get away from there right now!" _

Both sparklings' heads shot up in time to see Skyfly barrelling towards them from the far side of the arena's rafters. The catwalks were designed to allow the aerials to fly about with relative ease, getting from platform to platform as they needed for the show, but the area was still too small for the microbot to fly at full speed.

"_Get off the platform! It's too dangerous!"_

Taken by surprise, both sparklings stumbled back, teetering dangerously on the edge.

"No- no wait! Don't move! Don't move!" Skyfly shrieked, his pastel arms waving wildly.

Below them, the sounds of the roaring crowd swelled into an immense crescendo, vibrating the coliseum. The stuntmechs down below had no idea what drama was going on right above their heads as the finale quickly drew nearer. Above it all was the exhilarated hooting of Wildride as he zoomed just below the platforms with his jetpack. All the lights suddenly came on as their sequencer activated, blinding the sparklings and their would-be saviour.

"Frag!" Skyfly flinched to the left, skidding into the catwalk.

Flip's voice suddenly came over the speakers: _**"Mechs and femmes, minibots and microbots, Cybertronians of all shapes and sizes, are you in for a treat today-!"**_

Blindside froze in his tracks as Flip's voice resonated in his audios. Where were the twins? They were supposed to be out here by now. A quick visual sweep of the arena told him they were nowhere in sight, nowhere near. Immediately, his panic hit Wildride and the other mech wavered in the air where he was performing with his jetpack. A private channel was opened.

"_Wildride, where's Sunstreaker and Sideswipe?" _

The other mech skidded to the ground immediately, his own gaze darting about the arena. _"I don't know!"_

"_**-It has been a very long time coming since any of us have had the pleasure of putting on such a wild show for all you amazing bots-!" **_

Blindside was practically withering in his armor- not for the possibility that the show could be ruined, but because he had no idea where his sparklings were. With so many spark resonances around, he couldn't pick up their signatures. _"Primus, Wildride, we gotta go look for them!" _

"_No, hold on! We can't leave!" _Wildride took his mate's hand and held it tight, holding him back. _"We can't let anyone in the audience know something's wrong. That'll make it worse!"_

"_We can't just do nothing!"_

"_**-and, we hope to see you all many orns after this, allowing us to entertain you with our one true function in life, thrilling you right out of your plating-!"**_

A sudden, panicked mass-message was sent out on all the private stuntmech frequencies, alerting every performer in the arena to the two Creators' plea. _"Sunstreaker and Sideswipe aren't here! Where the pit are they?!" _

In the flurry of alarmed "_I don't know!" "They're missing?!" "Where are they?!"_ messages flowing back, it was Blaze's reply that made their energon run cold.

"_Look above you." _

Their heads shot up, optics squinting desperately against the glare of the lights, and then true terror seeped into their frames as they saw the tiny feet of the twins peeking over the very edge of the platform above them. Flip remained oblivious, continuing on with his commentary.

"_**-may the stuntmechs of the Centaurie Tetrax Performance and Exhibition Circuit happily present the newest members of our troop: Sideswipe and Sunstreaker!"**_

The arena exploded with noise and light as the crowd erupted for the twins, fireworks detonating above them in a fantastic, fiery display of colourful celebration. It was enough to shake the poor pair of little sparklings from their precarious perch, throwing them to the mercy of gravity. Their screams were drowned out by crowd, but the terror on their faceplates shone like beacons to the bots below

Wildride was quick to act, grabbing his mate. "Quick, Highfly Springboard!" he commanded. Instantly, Blindside reacted, the manoeuvre ingrained on his processor. In a flash, he was in a crouch, hands cupped, as Wildride took a running leap at him. Wide hands caught the airborne feet and hydraulically-assisted arms thrust the stuntmech high in the air. Thinking it was all part of the show, the crowd ripped up into an even louder frenzy, screaming and cheering as the twins made their appearance from above. Wildride's jetpack engaged, thrusting him higher, his arms outstretched. His Creations wailed in terror as their arms reached back to him.

"I'm coming!" the stuntmech howled.

"Wildride!" the twins wailed back, flailing desperately.

"Almost there- almost there-!" Catching them by the very tips of their fingers, Wildride dragged the pair to his chest, clutching them close in a near-crushing embrace. "Don't worry! I got ya, little ones!" he whispered into their audios despite the deafening roar around them. His jetpack gurgled, brought to its limit from the intensity of the show, before quitting all together. "Frag! Frag! Hold on to me!" Wildride ordered as his frame slowed in its upward projection, easing downwards in the beginning of freefall.

"_Wing formation!" _Clouddrift suddenly transmitted, warning Wildride of what was to happen.

Instantly, Wildride threw the twins to the relative safety of his shoulder, shifting the armour there to curve upwards, holding them like a bowl. With them safe, he flung out his arms as if he had wings. Clouddrift and the other aerials were suddenly there, swarming in like a buzzing multi-coloured cloud, their tiny frames latching on to Wildride's arms, and as room ran out there, they latched on to each other, their thrusters burning white-hot to keep their descent steady. Skyfly somersaulted off the platform and cartwheeled his way down after the trio and his fellow flyers, exhuming plumes of coloured smoke to keep of the appearance that this was all part of the show.

_"Almost to the floor," _Clouddrift transmitted, straining wildly to keep in formation, his thin arms whining from the stress of trying to keep a mech several times his weight airborne.

_"Get us there in one piece," _Wildride replied, bracing himself for the moment he would collide with the floor.

Blindside was with them the moment Wildride's feet touched the ground. The aerials dispersed like brightly coloured flecks in the breeze, taking to the air and whirling there in celebration of their save. Blindside's big hands were already scooping the twins up, holding them close to his faceplate as the little creatures mashed themselves into the slates of the plating. He nuzzled them both, whispering words of thanks to his mate and to Primus. He was nearly sobbing as loudly as the sparklings as they clung to him.

Flip appeared at their side, his smile enigmatic and his optics sparkling with strange, knowing mischief as he reached out and pried the sparklings from the Creator. Cupping them in pock-marked hands, he raised them to the crowd, even as they wailed and clung to the other. If it was possible, the roar grew even louder, drowning out all else.

In light of the great catch Wildride had just preformed, the stuntmechs threw themselves into their own applauding frenzy, whooping as wildly at their gathered crowd.

Flip's voice, still connected to the sound system, rang the length and breadth of the entire stadium when he next spoke.

"_**Centaurie Tetrax, Cybertron, I give to you Sunstreaker and Sideswipe: **__**The Twins!"**_

* * *

For the rest of the orn, and well into the night, Blindside and Wildride had refused to let their Creations touch the floor, let alone have anyone else hold them. They rode on their shoulders, cupped in their hands, snuggled tightly into crevices in plating, but never, _ever_, were they out of sight.

"I love you. I love you. I love you, little ones," Blindside kept whispering into their little frames as he nuzzled his large faceplate close. "I love you, I love you, I love you."

"We love you, too," they coursed repentantly.

"You damn near scared the sparks right out us," Wildride cursed while dangling them dangerously by their feet, shaking them upside down. "Don't you ever do that to us again or I'll disengage whatever limited motor functions you have for the rest of your lives!" He gave them an extra shake to better get it into their processors.

"We promise we won't do it again," they murmured the moment they were allowed right side up again.

"You damn well better not," the mech groused threateningly, and then smothered them in the most affectionate session of nuzzling they'd suffered through yet. "If anything had of happened to you two I don't know what I would have done!"

Flip had disappeared early after the show and remained aloof for long after that. While there were many amongst the troop currently cursing out the old mech for the danger he let the little sparklings get into, no one was brave enough to seek out the director to raise the issue personally. Greater mechs had tried in the past and met their ends tragically. Flip had not been made director of the troop on a whim, and he was formidable when crossed; it was best to leave his private agendas uncontested.

Flicker and Flashdance regaled the entire stuntmech troop with their newly concocted cheers of "Sideswipe the Sly!" and "Sunstreaker the Slick!"- two of the most slippery, wickedly devious sparklings they'd ever had the pleasure of meeting, which was quite a compliment, seeing as the twins had only been online since yesterday. The songs carried on for joors, left humming under everyone's vocal processors. Flashdance soon had his own dance steps for the cheers, quickly performing for anyone who would pay him mind.

Eventually, as the after-party dispersed, and the after-after-party wound down, and the media drones wandered away from greeting and interviewing the famed twins and their proud Creators, Blindside and Wildride glanced to each other and then to their Creations. The poor things were drop-dead tried, barely staying on the shoulder they swayed on. Poor dearsparks were overwhelmed beyond what their processors could handle. Bidding their fellow stuntmechs goodnight, they made their way passed the group dormitories to the private rooms sparkmates shared. Thrillride and Blaze happily bid them night as they slipped into their own quarters, Wildride and Blindside falling into theirs with Sunstreaker and Sideswipe already far gone. Tonight felt like a night they should all spend together. As soon as they hit the recharge berth, they were all out like lights.

It was only until the weak light of Cybertron's distant sun greeted them through the crystalline window did they remain blissfully in recharge. As glistening motes of grey light peeked over the horizon, tiny, ugly pincers poked Sideswipes back, bright optics glimmering in the half-light. Sideswipe grunted, waving the annoyance away, only to receive an astral wave of annoyance in return. Startled awake by that, the little red bot rolled away from the crevice he'd curled into on Wildride and sat up.

"Sunstreaker?"

His brother sat in the shadows made by their enormous Creators, watching Sideswipe carefully. "You won't do that again, will you?" he asked quietly.

"Do what?"

"Scare me like that."

Sideswipe tipped his head curiously. "Trying to fly?"

Sunstreaker nodded, crawling closer to wrap his arms around his brother and press their sparks close to feel whole and welcome again. "I was so scared." What confused him was what he was so scared of. He had no concept of death yet, had no idea that life as he knew it could easily end. What did he have to fear from the experience? He searched himself and found nothing to put his pincer on, but as he looked to Sideswipe he _felt_ the answer more than he knew it.

"I thought the part of me that's you was going to disappear." That was the best way he could describe it.

Sideswipe nodded solemnly, pressing back into his twin. He understood from the very depths of his spark. "I thought that too, when we were falling."

"Don't ever do it again."

"I won't. I promise. I won't ever try to fly like an aerial again. "

"Good."

Sideswipe moved to press his forehead against Sunstreaker's, a gesture of affection he'd seen used around the stuntmechs. He hoped he was mimicking it right. He smiled a smile that was quickly becoming infused with something he was learning as 'mischief'.

"Instead, I want a jetpack like Wildride."


	4. Chapter 3

Happy Singles Awareness Day!!!!!! (AKA Valentine's Day ) A day designed to remind people just how lonely they really are, as well as promoting disgusting amounts of comsumerism and giving the blood-diamond and death-chocolate trades a huge boosts in order to spready their industrial misery! Doesn't that make you feel all warm and bubbly inside? -_- I don't celebrate this day for moral reasons, by I wish everyone else the best who do celebrate. :)

Alright, because the last chapter didn't fair as well as the previous two, I'm going to thank each reader individually to show how great my thanks is for each of you taking a few moments to scribble something out to let me know that you liked what you read. I know how bothersom it can be typing out your thoughts after you just read a huge chapter full of all sorts of different things, and gathering one's thoughts can be like trying to hold water in your hands, and for that I am as deeply grateful for the reviews I get as I can possibly be.

**Bluebird Soaring**- Awwww, thanks so much! I'm glad you liked the chapter! It really was a blast to write~ Showing Sideswipe in all his Sideswipe-glory was so much fun! I guess he's always been a right mischievous little bratling from the very beginning, no prompting needed. ^^; You'll deefinitely see more development on Sunstreaker's part as the vorns progress, though. He's a little slower to come into himself as we all know him because there are so many things that have to happen, but you will see some deffinite Sunny-like qualities starting to shine through as the story progresses. The story really will turn wild as soon as they reformat into their adult frames. :3

**FunkyFish1991**- If you can't imagine what Wildride and Blindside felt when they saw their creations falling, just think of terror. Cold. Blind. Horrid. Terror. That's pretty much what everyone was feeling, even Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. And Flip certainly is an enigmatic one... ^^; I'm so glad that you're enjoying the story so far, and I do hope that I can continue to thrill you. :)

**Elita One**- Oh yes, Sunny'n'Sides sure do know how to scare people, even when they're only an orn old. I guess some bots are just created to cause trouble. The orn Sideswipe gets a jetpack though is the day everyone else will start ducking and covering every time they see him. XD

**shimmershadow30**- I'm glad you think they're cute. It's a real stretch for me to be writing young characters... I really despise writting 'babies' with a passion, but so long as one person is enjoying the show, then that's enough for me to keep trucking along. :)

**Kittona**- Yeah, the Twins are growing up in a kind of Cybertronian circus. I thought that that would be the most suiting environment for their personalities- they don't seem like mechs who were raised by office drones or plain bots like that. I really strive to have the most original story I can possibly write to give the readers something new and interesting to read. :)

**Silveriss**- It certainly was a wild ride, wasn't it? Though is't good that everyone made out okay and no one got hurt. *big sigh of relief* I was writing the thing, and I still got nervous during that fall scene. xD I'm gald you liked the chapter though. Thank you so much for reviewing~ It means a lot. :)

**Bunnylass**- My dear, have you any idea how completely and utterly mind-blowing your reviews can be? While reading the review for the last chapter, I just about split my face from grinning so ridiculously! xD It doesn't matter how long it takes you to get to writing out a monster review liek that, and I simply encourage you to take your time and don't stress yourself out over something as silly as a little review, but when I do get something as explosive and enthusiastic as one of your reviews, the world could come to an end and I'd still be happy. It's terrific that you've been able to enjoy yourself thus far with the fic; I do hope that the enjoyment continues, even if sad times are looming ominously on the horizon. Much, much cosmic love and hugs your way, my dear! This chapter is certainly for you in honour of your most wonderful reviews! *hugs*

**Lecidre**- I know you didn't review, my dear, but I just wanted to give a shout out to you as a great thanks for the bracelet you found while on vacation with your family. The greatest of all thanks and best of hugs to you! You're simply the best! :)

_Ratchet's minibot status_- Cybertronians who go to work in a Youth Sector are required to format into small minibot frames or smaller for safety reasons. After Ratchet leaves, he does reformat into a larger frame, but at this point in time, he is a minibot.

Sadly, not all chapters can be as wildly exciting as the last. This one is a little more tame, even boring. My apologies if I put anyone to sleep. ^^; Do read and review as you please. Love is always welcome. :)

**Surface of the Sun  
****Chapter 3**

Life as a stuntmech was not always as exciting as one was led to believe.

Sure, their performances were exciting, and their paintjobs were flashy enough, and who didn't want to be a celebrity? But, in truth, that was only ten percent of their lives. The other ninety percent consisted of being placed at the mercies of Flip as he drilled them into new routines, continuously whipped to _practise, practise, practise_. Sadly, that was the life each of them had agreed to live when they had decided to stay as performers in the troop, doomed to a lifetime of working hard while making it look like they were hardly working.

Thankfully, that peaceful inner bustling of the circuit was the perfect kind of atmosphere to raise Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. There were no crowds in the coliseum when there were no shows, leaving them free to wander, with chaperones of course, without fear of getting stepped on. There was always someone to watch, and sometimes there was someone to play with.

Sideswipe was not a fan of this newfound quietness that settled upon the coliseum, vastly more entertained by the colours and loud noises that the shows brought. He did not like the slowness of normal life. If there were no fireworks or lightshows or colourful smoke, then he wasn't interested. Peace, on the other hand, meant a great deal more to Sunstreaker, who took to the colourful, empty halls with great vigour, often squeaking loudly until someone would pick him up and walk him around so he could look at the murals over and over. He liked the fact that no one stared at him when it was just the troop. He liked it better when he wasn't made to feel like a freak.

Their orns were reduced to a very strict schedule dictated by the Council and Youth Sectors for proper sparkling and youngling care. They were onlined at a certain time, administered the correct dosage of diluted energon, drained of excess de-energized energon, hooked up for a downloading session, and then left for the rest of the orn at the mercies of their troop, who were more than happy to keep the sparklings entertained, lest the little imps get bored, sneak off, and have a repeat performance of their presenting show. Primus forbid they have a repeat performance of _that._ They were played with, laughed with, and talked to, as much as their care instructions dictated. Sure, there was a deviation here or there when Flicker hid the pair on his frame when he wandered out into the city to allow them to get a look around while he was picking up supplies [i.e. high-grade] for the troop, or when Flip got a hold of them and then mysteriously let them get away to get into all sorts of trouble, but what sparklinghood is complete without a little bit of mischief? For the most part, they were cared for and loved; it was their entire world. It was all they knew.

What they didn't know about was the constant stream of media drones attempting to scale the walls of the coliseum to get a peek at the sparklings, or the droves of bots that would show up at the doors trying to get in. Despite the presumed wild nature of being in a stunt circuit, it was a unanimous decision amongst the Centaurie Tetrax performers that they wanted to give their little twins the most normal lives possible. They were already two of the strangest, most mysterious creatures on the planet; that had already garnered them more attention than any mech could ever possibly deserve, they didn't need any more fuss.

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were given the opportunity to be _normal_ sparklings.

Well, as normal as sparklings could be when they were surrounded by bots whose function in life was to perform death-defying stunts for crowds of screaming, thrill-seeking, swooning onlookers. Seeing as they were only several dozen orns old and largely oblivious of the world and its mechanizations, "normal" was still pretty subjective. Whereas _normal_ for most sparklings was playing in a Sector courtyard with gentle Caretakers and watchful Guardians, or sitting quietly in an alcove downloading the latest information for their sessions, _normal_ for Sunstreaker and Sideswipe as the same kind of normal every other stuntmech had been raised with; watching their Creators and troop brethren flip and fly and trapeze about, and then getting carted off to a padded tumbling room when one mech decided that it was time to try and teach them something way beyond their physical capacities at that point in time.

The lesson today was how to somersault.

Too bad Sideswipe and Sunstreaker had no idea what a somersault was.

"No, it's not a type of energon goodie, Sideswipe," Wildride sighed tiredly.

"Are you _sure_?" the sparkling insisted hopefully.

"I'm quite sure," the mech said firmly.

"Are you realllly sure?"

Wildride fixed the hopeful pair with a pointed look. "You two shouldn't even _know_ what an energon goodie is... unless someone's been sneaking you a few."

Sideswipe's mouthplates snapped together, wide optics darting to his brother before staring haplessly up at his Creator. "No," he squeaked guiltily. He liked energon treats. He _really_ liked energon treats. He liked everything about them from the way they glowed a pretty pink to the way they made him tingle in the inside when the little crumbs reacted with what was in his tanks. The only thing he didn't like about them was that they were solid, and his tanks were configured to only support liquid, which is why he really, really liked it when Flicker grinded the treats up and added them to their regular rations of diluted energon when it was his turn to administer it. It would be really, really bad if Wildride and Blindside found that out. "No, no, no, no, no..."

"No?"

"Noooooooo," Sideswipe whined, pulling an expression that made his optics widen and his mouthplates stick out pathetically, hoping to engender some pity from the fireworks-motif mech.

"Alright, I'll believe you just this once," Wildride relented with a charmed laugh.

Sideswipe giggled, bolstered by Sunstreaker's silent cheers.

"Shall we get on with the lesson?" the mech offered, to which his creations nodded vigorously. "Okay, so teaching you how to somersault is one of the easiest things to learn. It's the first trick I was taught when I was a sparkling."

"You were taught when you were our age?" Sunstreaker asked wonderingly.

"Well... not quite. I was a bit older, and had a better grasp of my motor functions, but you two seem able enough. Right, Flash?" The three of them glanced to Flashdance for confirmation, only to receive a humoured snort.

"Whatever you say, boss."

That hadn't been the answer Wildride had been hoping for. "Never mind him. _I_ think you're able enough, and that's all that counts, right?"

"Right," the twins parroted confidently.

"Good, now I want you to pay close attention while we show you this- Flashdance, assume the position."

Flashdance snorted with laughter again. "You sure know how to sweet talk a mech."

"Don't be a half-bit, just get down like you're going to somersault." Flashdance shrugged and did as he was told. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe observed the motions carefully, memorizing how he was arranging his limbs and distributing his weight, subconscious programs running in their processors trying to apply it to their own frames for future reference. "See how Flash is crouching down?" Wildride asked. The twins nodded rapidly. "Good, now he's going to tuck his chin in, place his head lightly on the floor," which Flashdance did, "and then he's going to raise his back end into the air and gently push himself over with his legs."

"And then what?" Sunstreaker asked dubiously, regarding Flashdance's fluorescent frame sceptically.

"And then he'll do a somersault," Wildride informed patiently.

"He'll do a somersault after he pushes himself over?" Sunstreaker pressed, frowning.

"No, the somersault _is_ pushing him over," Wildride replied.

"So... a somersault is what's gonna push Flashdance over?"

"Yes- wait, no..."

"I don't get it," the brown sparkling grumped.

"I'm confused," Sideswipe whined.

"You're not the only one," Flashdance grumbled, sitting back up.

"Give me a moment to think of a better way to explain it," Wildride sighed. He pondered hard, consulting his sparkling care files carefully to see if there were any tips on making explanations easier.

Flashdance was not the most patient mech to be left waiting that long. "You know, I could have been out in the arena practising with Flicker and the aerials for our air choreography set instead of getting made your example dummy for these two. You can do your own somersaults, you lazy aft."

Wildride's faceplate drew into a frown. "I'm serious when I say this, Flash, watch it with the negativity around them. Next time we're doing a trapeze show together, I'll drop you if you're not careful."

"Idle threat," Flashdance huffed, and then relented when he saw that Wildride wasn't going to back down. "Fine, fine, I'll watch myself." He heaved a dramatic sigh, turning to the sparklings to them scrutinize them, as if he couldn't believe he had been that small and dumb at one time. "A somersault is the _action_ of pushing myself over," he stated flatly.

"Oh." The pair chimed in unison.

"Do ya got it?"

"Got it!" They coursed cheerfully.

Flashdance cocked his head to the side, regarding them sceptically. "You really got it?"

"Nope!" They replied, full of grins.

The mech turned to Wildride for an appeal. "Can't they just download something on this?"

"You know that's not how it works- they have to learn fine motor control on their own, and we have to help them," Wildride insisted. "Just do the trick so they can see it."

"Do I have to?"

"Do you want me to drop you in the next show?"

With a stubborn snort that rattled his vents, Flashdance crouched, grumbled a stubborn "you two better be watching", and then pushed himself over with a flourish so that his neon blue and green pain flashed in the light, rolling to his feet gracefully. "See? That's how you somersault."

Undaunted by Flashdance's attitude, Sideswipe was full of unconditional awe, scrambling to his feet, tripping, and then scrambling some more to get to the mech as fast as he could.

"Want to try! Want to try!" the red sparkling squealed, demanding. Sunstreaker looked to Wildride first, who nodded his permission before the brown sparkling pushed up and inched his way over to his brother, who continued to shriek that he wanted to try.

Flashdance suddenly revelled in the attention, somersaulting once more for them just to increase Sideswipe's worship of him. With blindingly green hands, he plucked the pair up from the floor and tossed them a few times. "Alright, monsters, it's your turns if you want to learn so badly."

"Flash, we warned you about nicknames, too-,"

"I know, I know, but what else am I gonna call them? Look at this one- exactly like a little monster," Flashdance whined, holding up Sunstreaker in his palm so his Creator could get a good look. With the dour, squinty-glare look the brown sparkling was sporting, he did look vaguely like the smallest monster Wildride had ever seen.

"He only looks like that because you're calling him names," Wildride admonished. "How about you take Sideswipe for now, and I'll take my little ray of sunshine here." He plucked Sunstreaker from the other mech's palm before any more psychological damage could be incurred from being called _monster_.

Sideswipe pouted. "I'm not your little ray of 'shine, too?"

Wildride laughed, leaning in close so that the red sparkling could butt his head gently off his Creator's faceplate. "No, you're my little ray of mischief. That's just as good," he informed fondly, which Sideswipe was rather satisfied with.

Flashdance rolled his optics, tossing the sparkling lightly. "Time to somersault," he announced, and then muttered, "before I purge my tanks."

They carefully arranged the sparklings' frames the way they needed to be, head down, aft up. For the first few attempts, the twins simply tipped over to the side from their lack of developed coordination. There was one moment when it looked like Sunstreaker was about to flip over, his little legs pedaling desperately, but then he wavered and flopped to the right pathetically.

"I can't do it!" he whined stubbornly.

"You're getting close, though," Wildride urged supportively.

"_Riiiiight,"_ Flashdance sighed, rolling his optics.

Light chuckling from the entrance of the tumbling room announced the presence of a small audience who had gathered, Blindside peeking in with Thrillride while Clouddrift and Skyfly wandered in to start somersaulting circles around the room.

"Somersault lessons this early in the game?" Blindside wondered.

"They can do it," Wildride assured. "Just look at them- they're doing great!"

Sunstreaker grunted and tried to push with his awkward legs. Instead of flipping over, he ended up ploughing his faceplate into the floor as he walked forward. Sideswipe was in a similar predicament, ploughing along with his faceplate to the padded ground. Flashdance couldn't stop laughing. His hysterical laughter doubled into wheezing when the twins, unable to see anything as they ploughed along determinedly, walked right into each other, falling sideways with light 'oofs.'

"Doing great, huh?" Blindside prompted.

"All things considering, that was a great attempt!"

Thrillride hid her laughter behind her pointed hand, glad she'd recorded the moment to show Blaze later on.

Sideswipe looked ornery, glaring at anyone who dared laugh. Sunstreaker seemed to have taken the laughter to spark, on the verge of curling into a disappointed ball. Feeling his brother's plight, Sideswipe immediately dropped his glaring to curl around his brother's back, hugging him tightly.

"Somersaults are stupid," Sunstreaker pouted.

"We'll do it next time," he assured his twin.

Skyfly cartwheeled over and plopped down next to them. He was their size, but his large wingspan in bipedal mode made him look a little funny, like he could tip over backwards if he wasn't careful. "Don't worry about not somersaulting," he said with a smile. "Your motor skills still aren't properly developed yet. Once you get a better grasp of walking in a straight line, you'll be able to somersaults in no time."

"Yes, yes, of course- Skyfly is right. Once you're advanced enough, you'll be able to somersault with no problem," Blindside assured promptly, just as each of the adult bots received a mass message from Flip with an order for whoever had the twins at the moment. "It seems there's someone here who wants to meet you two- he's here pretty early, though. We weren't expecting him until later..."

"He'll be in the common room, so we might as well troop these two over there now. No sense in making anyone wait," said Thrillride, motioning for Wildride to gather his Creations.

"Who's in the common room?" Sunstreaker asked curiously.

"A very important mech," Blindside explained. "He flew all the way from Iacon to meet you two. He's part of a science and research core that works closely with the Council Pantheon and the Prime, so you better be on your best behaviour while he's here."

"What's he here for?" Sunstreaker pressed.

"Just to get to know you two," Blindside replied lightly. "You're very, very special, you see, and this mech wants to know a little bit more about what makes you special." They made their way through the maze of halls that made up the coliseum's living quarters, colourful and bright and confusing to anyone not familiar with the layout. While Sunstreaker remained relatively wary of new mechs, he felt waves of curiosity and excitement rolling off his brother, which was enough to keep him stubbornly quiet. Upon reaching the common room, it was only the Creators and their creations who entered, the rest stayed in the hall.

"_Wow!" _Sideswipe breathed in awe as he stared up at the immense mech that stood before him. He was _huge_! Bigger than even Flicker, and Flicker was the biggest of all the stuntmechs! He was big, big, BIG! Though Sideswipe was drawn to only the gargantuan mech's size, Sunstreaker noted that his paint was nothing like the stuntmechs'- he was quite plain, with a basic white-wash paint, accented with small streaks of red here and there. Sunstreaker was also quick to spot that this mech was flight capable, like an aerial, which made his wariness of him increase. Upon sensing their entrance, the mech turned with a grin, his optics landing on the twins instantly.

"You must be the twins I've heard so much about," he exclaimed happily, kneeling to offer a finger three times their size to the twins so they could touch the digit in greeting. "Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, yes?"

"Yes," they coursed in reply, laying their hands to the warm metal like they knew they should in acknowledgment of the mech.

The mech smiled even wider, turning to the Creators with his smile firmly in place. "And you must be Blindside and Wildride, their Creators?"

"Yes, we are," Blindside stretched out a star-painted hand to touch the immense mech's offered one. "We weren't expecting you so early, though."

"Ah, Seeker alt modes are a little faster than your average jet. Sorry for any trouble I might have caused by this little timing mix up," the mech amended, laughing warmly.

"Oh, no, no, not a trouble," Blindside assured, though he felt Wildride's annoyance at having his somersaulting lesson cut short. Shaking the feeling off, he was quick to latch on to a different subject. "I don't think I quite caught your designation, though-."

"How rude of me, must have slipped my mind. My designation is Jetfire, the researcher you were warned about," Jetfire announced jokingly. "As you know, the research core is very curious about this spark-splitting phenomena, and we are most grateful that you have allowed this little meeting. I'm absolutely fascinated with the idea of twins."

"Aren't we all?" Wildride laughed, deciding to be civil instead of bitter. With one hand, he reached up and patted the twins. "Little miracles."

"No doubt," Jetfire agreed whole-sparkedly.

"How is this going to work?" Blindside asked. "Do you want us to leave so you can do your work, or do we stay, or is there something special we're supposed to do?" He looked a tiny bit anxious, which the sparklings picked up on and began to fidget. "We've never had someone from the Council Pantheon here... we're such a small circuit, after all..."

Jetfire chuckled, shaking his head. "You may stay or go as you please," he assured. "While working with the sparklings, I'm required to have a medic present at all times, which is why Ratchet from the Youth Sector is here. And, for further assurance of the sparklings' safety, Barricade will remain here in this room as well." Having been so distracted by Jetfire huge presence, the twins quickly searched the room for the mentioned bots and spotted two minibots standing next to Flip, one they recognized as Barricade from their first orn online, the other they didn't know at all. They waved nonetheless, receiving a small wave from the medic and a grunt from the Guardian.

Too busy waving to notice anything else, they squealed in surprised when they felt Wildride transferring them over into the wide, warm plains of Jetfire's flat palm. The jet wiggled his hand a little, eliciting bright laughter as the twins went rolling across the worn metal.

"You two be good," Blindside pressed, leaning over the side of Jetfire's hand.

"We will," they replied in unison, far too excited to be meeting this huge, towering mech to remember to be nervous. They caught sight of Flip watching them and waved to the old, mossy-green mech. Flip offered the twins a wink in his usual enigmatic way, making them giggle.

"I think we can leave this good mech to his work," the director said, offering Jetfire a friendly smile before disappearing out the door with Wildride and Blindside on his heels. The other stuntmechs that had gathered in the hall instantly scattered the moment they saw the director coming.

As the door was closed, a grumpy sigh drifted from Barricade as his back hit the wall and he slid down stubbornly.

Ratchet sent the mech a sharp look, kicking him lightly in the leg. "Don't be like that; you're a Guardian, it's your function to look after all the occupants of the Youth Sector, me included," he chastised.

Barricade's dark head tipped back, rolling his optics. "Doesn't mean I have to like it," he grunted. To be honest, he _hated_ being away from the Sector for too long; sure, the young ones got on his nerves constantly, but he'd hate to think of the mischief they could get into without him there. What if a little scamp got loose? The other Guardians' tracking skills certainly left something to be desired compared to his. It'd be pit on Cybertron if he got back to the Sector to find one of his charges missing.

Jetfire jiggled his charges again, laughing along with them as they rolled. "Lighten up," he said happily. "It's not every orn you get to meet spark-split twins."

"I've met enough younglings in my life time," Barricade replied.

"Well, I haven't. I've only met a handful," Jetfire replied, continuing his play. "The research core so rarely allows the younglings access for tours... Starscream is completely paranoid about keeping his research top secret."

Ratchet quirked an optic ridge. "What does he think- a youngling is going to troop off with some of his precious data?"

"Who knows what he thinks; Starscream is either incredibly brilliant, or completely insane. I've known him for most of my life and I still can't tell," Jetfire laughed. "I'm sure he would have a bit of fun if he'd chosen to come along, though." He stilled his palm to allow the sparklings to come to a rolling stop. "I'm Jetfire, little ones- I'm a researcher from a special sect of the research core, and I'm going to be examining you today."

"I'm Sideswipe."

"I'm Sunstreaker." Sunstreaker then directed his gaze warily to Ratchet. "Who's he?"

The medic nodded accordingly. "My designation is Ratchet- I am the head medic for the Youth Sector. Barricade and I will be overseeing the procedures today to ensure your safety."

"'Kay," the sparkling nodded, no less wary.

"There's nothing to worry about, little ones- the twin studies will be completely painless," Jetfire assured calmly.

"Twins?" Sideswipe repeated curiously. He'd heard the word several times over the orns, usually in reference to himself and his brother, but the term was not included in his vocabulary file and he had yet to ask about it.

Looking a little startled, Jetfire tipped them gently onto the table he'd set up in the room. "Ah- nobody's supplied you with a definition yet?"

"No."

"I see..." The scientist seemed to sincerely think out what kind of answer he could give. "Well, nobody is quite sure what twins like you are, since there have been so few in Cybertronian history..." he said after a fashion. "I was hoping you would be able to tell me, actually."

They glanced to each other, feeling the confusion of the other, which in turn confused them further. "Us?" Sunstreaker asked unsurely.

"Yes. Not directly, of course, but a few tests should be able to clear up the mystery a bit, then we'll both know what twins are," Jetfire said lightly.

Sideswipe thought hard to the point of making his head hurt. "It means we're special, right?"

"You're very special," Jetfire nodded. "But what I want to know, and what everyone else I work for wants to know, is what kind of special? How does the spark-splitting make you special? What makes you different from other mechs?"

"We feel each other," Sunstreaker said suddenly.

The three adult mechs paused, staring for a good few astroseconds before Ratchet made a move, hopping up onto a chair to look over the ledge of the table. With steady medic's hands, he cupped Sunstreaker, bringing the tiny, awkward brown sparkling to optic level.

"What do you mean?" he asked carefully.

Sunstreaker squirmed, feeling the strange tickle of scans being run on him. "I don't know," he answered truthfully. "We just do- we feel each other." He didn't have enough lingual programming to explain it. He tried anyways, seeking comfort from Sideswipe as he sat under Ratchet's gaze. "When Sideswipe is happy, I _know_ he's happy, even if I'm not. He can make me happy, sometimes, when he's happy enough. It's all right here," his pincer-hand splayed over his chest, right above his spark. "I feel him in here. Even when we're not together, it's still like I'm standing next to him. I- we…" he sighed. "I don't know how to say it right."

"No, no, you're doing fine," the medic assured him. With a muted blue hand, he rubbed the sparkling's head and back. "You explained it very well."

Sideswipe twittered, not to be outdone. "Me and him are connected," he said proudly. "It's different when we're together and when we're apart- it's like… it's like…" He thought of how his spark felt different when Sunstreaker was near and when he was far; being close was safe, they were together, whole, and being apart wasn't fun because they were empty, hollow. "It's like we're _half_ of something... I'm one half and he's the other. When we're together, we're whole."

"Extraordinary," Jetfire sighed, recording everything for future reference. "And you say that is exactly how you two have felt from when you were first brought online?"

The twins glanced to each other, reaffirming their bond before answering.

"Yeah, that's how we've always felt," Sideswipe finally confirmed.

"Always," Sunstreaker parroted.

"Simply amazing," Jetfire continued with his breathy praise.

"It almost sounds like sparkmates," Barricade murmured offhandedly. He had slouched over to a chair so he could be on par with the table, curious now of what was going on.

"It does, doesn't it?" Ratchet mused.

A tickly feeling came over the twins again and they squirmed away from the new, ultra-probing scan. Jetfire gasped as he registered the results, optics wide in surprise. "My goodness!" he breathed.

"What is it?" Ratchet asked quickly. As a Sector medic, he was instantly on alert for something wrong, scanning the twins carefully.

"Their spark resonances," Jetfire managed to say. "My goodness, _scan them_."

Out of curiosity, both Ratchet and Barricade did, and both mechs gasped in unison.

Sunstreaker tumbled off of Ratchet's hand in his haste to get back to his brother. "What? What's wrong with us?" he squeaked.

Jetfire was quick to reassure. "Nothing, nothing at all," he soothed, though clearly flustered. "It's just… we didn't expect… Primus, your sparks…"

"What's wrong with them?" Sunstreaker pressed, gripping his brother as Sideswipe curled into him.

"What's wrong, what's wrong, what's wrong?" Sideswipe whined.

"Nothing is wrong, little ones, nothing's wrong," Ratchet shushed, knowing there was no sense in scaring innocent sparklings. In his experience, that only made things worse. "Your sparks are healthy and whole. They're just a little- ah, _different_ from what one would normally expect."

Sunstreaker was still suspicious, mouthplates drawn together tightly. "Different how?" he pressed stubbornly.

"You're just different. Don't worry about," Barricade grunted, hoping to subdue a panic before one started.

"No, no, tell us!" Sunstreaker argued adamantly.

"It's like… Oh, how would I put this, you're both so young…" Ratchet glanced to his fellow mechs, both of them shrugging at a loss. Sighing, Ratchet used the simplest terms possible to explain it, though he knew the pair were not advanced enough in their downloading sessions to understand it all. "It's like you're bonded."

The term had several definitions in the sparkling's lingual files and there was no indication of what meaning Ratchet was using, so they waited for clarification. Ratchet knew what they were waiting for, his long fingers drumming an anxious tempo against the tabletop as he wondered what to say.

"Bonded pairs are- well, they're like..." he sighed, shaking his head at himself for getting so flustered over such a surprise. He gathered himself and answered far more calmly. "Bonded paired are when one spark merges with another, forging a connection. It's a very intimate act between two bots that care very dearly for one another- we also call them "sparkmates". They become two halves of one whole."

"Like Blindside and Wildride? And Blaze and Thrillride?" Sideswipe asked curiously. He'd heard the term "sparkmates" used when referring to those two pairs.

"Yes, exactly like them," Ratchet replied warmly, nodding.

Sideswipe pursed his mouthplates, glancing to his brother to scrutinize him. "So… we're sparkmates?"

"No, you're not."

"Then why'd you say that stuff?"

"I was trying to explain- oh, _never mind_," the medic sighed. "You two are not sparkmates. It's as simple as that. But, your sparks do resonate like they are, meaning each resonance is exactly one half of a full one. When you're placed together," he shuffled them close, "the frequency completes itself. But when you are apart," he jostled them to either side of the table, "the incompleteness of the resonance wave is obvious."

"They split from the same spark, so wouldn't it make sense that their resonances would be half of a whole?" Barricade asked, though posing the question ina way that made it seem like only an idiot wouldn't think of it. His sarcasm was lost on his companions.

"Of course it would make sense, how silly of us not to think of such an obvious answer. All without bonding, too," Jetfire said, still sounding dazed. "Possibly a form of bonding in reverse, one spark splitting into two, instead of two sparks merging into one."

"Definitely one for the records," Ratchet commented. "But it leaves so many questions…"

"Then maybe you should get started with your poking and prodding before our time is up," Barricade suggested gruffly. "You're only allowed to be away from the Sector for so long, and I have to get you back there before your time is up."

"Yes, yes, of course," Ratchet waved to the Guardian dismissively.

Barricade snorted. "As soon as you're gone, _he_ has to leave too," the mech waved a nonchalant hand in Jetfire's direction. "So get your work done while you can."

"We should start immediately," Jetfire conceded. "Ratchet, I do believe it would be best for you to perform full maintenance overviews of Sideswipe and Sunstreaker to make sure they are at optimal functioning capacity before we begin anything. I'm going to collect data on their processors concerning how they've been coming along with assimilating their downloads, and how their adaption programs have been coping with adjusting to their new environments. After those preliminaries have been taken care of, I would like to study this bond of theirs."

"Sounds excellent," Ratchet concurred, already beginning to check over Sideswipe as the sparkling squeaked and whined.

"Is this going to hurt?" he squawked, trying to skitter away.

"No," Ratchet grunted.

"This _is_ going to hurt!" he insisted fretfully, emitting a high-pitched trill that made everyone's paint crawl.

"I'm not going to hurt you, little one," the medic assured, firmly pinching the little creature between two fingers.

Sideswipe let out another high-pitched wail, which incensed Sunstreaker enough to join in.

"Oh dear- this isn't good," Jetfire fussed, trying to sooth Sunstreaker while Ratchet worked with Sideswipe. The jet's large hands, while skilful with delicate instruments, were still too large to handle a fragile sparkling with any grace.

"They'll be a handful when they're older," Barricade commented offhandedly, watching absently as the other two struggled for some semblance of control.

"You could help, you know," Ratchet snapped.

"I'm a Guardian, not a Caretaker; I'm not programmed for this sort of thing," he shrugged.

"Help, dammit, or the next time you're in for maintenance, I'll strip you down and sell you for spare parts," the medic threatening, though internally chastising himself about letting his temper slip in front of the twins.

Sighing, Barricade acquiesced to the threat, tracking Sideswipe as the red creature wiggled and flailed in the medic's expert hands. In a flash, his long-fingered hand darted out and pinned the sparkling, inhibiting movement completely without bringing any harm. With his other hand, he deftly caught Sunstreaker before he escaped into a slate in Jetfire's plating and got lost within the gargantuan mech's frame. "Scan them quick before I let him go."

"Thank you," the medic grunted, scanning quickly. "Primus forbid what these two will like when they're older."

Jetfire looked ruffled, shocked to find sparklings so difficult to handle. "Surely they would grow out of such behaviour."

Ratchet fixed the towering mech with a flat look, jaded by his vorns in the Youth Sector. "You'd be surprised."

* * *

The rest of the orn carried on much like that, with roughly the same amount of joy that came from wrestling sparklings barely 1/10th their size, or in Jetfire's case 1/50th his size.

Jetfire and Ratchet poked and prodded, scanned and graphed, measured and experimented while Barricade watched with barely feigned interest. Once in a while, an anxious Blindside would peek in to see how thing were going, and then he would be dragged away by a less-than-worried Wildride for the next round of practise with the rest of the troop. Sometimes Flip would show up to chat with Barricade for a few breems, only staying long enough to exchange a few words, give a nod to the twins, and then he was gone again in the same strange way he would show up. Around mid-orn, the tiny aerials showed up laden with cubes twice their size to offer the three visiting mechs. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe were hooked up to feeding tubes and sat on the ledge of the table to watch as the aerials performed a miniature show from them so that they didn't fuss while taking in the diluted energon, giving Jetfire, Ratchet, and Barricade a break from seeing to the little creatures.

One of the most interesting things to happen during their examination was when Sunstreaker was taken by one mech and Sideswipe taken by the other and walked to different ends of the coliseum. Ratchet, who'd gotten stuck with the increasingly fussy Sideswipe, then proceeded to tickle the little monster until he was nearly sick while Jetfire recorded any reaction with Sunstreaker.

Sunstreaker, in fact, began to giggle for no other reason than he felt his spark tickle.

After that, the process was reversed; Sunstreaker was tickled and Sideswipe was recorded. For the record, Sideswipe laughed so hard he ended up purging all over Ratchet's hand, much to the medic's irritation.

A slew of other tests were performed, experiments listed by Jetfire's peers carried out, and then some minute poking and prodding to satisfy some of their own personal curiosities. By the end of the orn, a few of the questions surrounding Sunstreaker and Sideswipe's creation were now answered, while many new questions sprang up to take their place. What Jetfire and Ratchet focused on was their bond, its extent, the intimacy, and any future impact it might have on them. Unfortunately, like with any bond, it was difficult to quantify that type in information scientifically.

While Sideswipe and Sunstreaker might have lacked the knowledge to understand the impact of that information, leaving them to simply live in ignorant bliss, the nature of their sparks left the adult mechs both deeply awed and concerned. Would this bond affect them in future in terms of relations with another bots? Would they be able to have relations with another bot? What about interfacing for pleasure as opposed to for informational purposes; how would the twins' bond affect their capacity to interface? How would this bond affect any future sparkmate they would want to have? Would they even be able to bond with another spark?

Without any way to test those questions, Jetfire and Ratchet went about packing up as Barricade began to make it known that he wanted to return to the sector, without or without Ratchet strapped to his back. As they pair saw to those minor chores, Barricade was left with the job of looking after the sparklings. Acting as if it were a chore, he twirled their frames around his fingers until their high-pitched laughter split the air, letting them scamper over his own plating as if he were a play structure built just for them. It was better than letting them screech and whine on the floor, like they were becoming prone to now that the orn had dragged on to its tail end.

"Ready to go?" the dark-plated mech asked, glancing up.

"One moment, almost done," Ratchet sniped, reaching the end of his tether with the Guardian.

Jetfire glanced over to offer a more cordial reply, only to quirk an optic ridge as he looked down at the floor. "What are they doing?"

Two other pairs of optics dropped to the sparklings as they wobbled along the floor, their faceplates ploughing into the ground as their afts bobbed about in the air. Slightly amused and a bit disturbed, Ratchet scanned them for any corruption to their motor programs. Finding nothing wrong, he shrugged.

"Did either of you managed to scramble their processors today?" Barricade asked dryly.

"Of course not! We were the epitome of care with them!" Ratchet groused, obviously insulted.

Jetfire eased down to the floor, placing his faceplate near the sparklings as they continued to determinedly wipe the floor with their faceplates. "Excuse me, little ones- if you don't mind me asking....What exactly are you doing?"

Sunstreaker paused, turning his head to look into Jetfire's faceplate with one optic. "Somersaulting," he replied as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

"I see..."

Ratchet grunted, glad to have proof that it wasn't his own doing that was making the sparklings act like that. It was the stunt troop's fault. "Figures. Let stuntmechs raise a sparkling, and they think they can fly before they walk."

"There's no harm in a somersault," Jetfire admonished lightly, clearly bemused.

"It's harder than it looks," Sunstreaker grunted, expending extra effort to drag his faceplate along.

"Wildride and Flashdance were teaching us earlier," Sideswipe offered, muffled a little when he stumbled a bit along floor.

"Here, this might help a bit." Jetfire stuck out a large finger and poked the pair lightly, flipping them over so they sprawled onto their backs.

Sideswipe laughed, reaching out his hand to take his brother's. Not caring about whatever label the older mechs wanted to stick on the bond they had with each other, they shared their jubilance over completing a single somersault- even if it was with help.

"See?" the red mech laughed, grinning to his brother. "Told you we'd do it next time."


	5. Chapter 4: Part I

There's quite a bit of mentions of different types of minerals in this chapter, and it is quite unlikely that you all are aspiring geologists with extensive knowledge of mineral names, so to make it easy I'm going to lay it all out here. _Quartz_ is a fairly common mineral whose hardness on the Moh's scale is 7, which is fairly hard, and _corundum_ is the base mineral that can either become rubies or sapphires, depending on which element is present in the ore; corundum's hardness runs at about 9, and the only thing harder than it is diamonds. _Mica_ is a very soft, sparkly mineral that is often added to paints here on Earth to get it a shimmering diamond-esque look. The femme working in the mineral shop's name is _Amethyst_, which is the name for purple quartz. _Lapis Lazuli_ is a brilliant blue mineral; _malachite_ is a vibrant green; _vanadinite_ is bright orange-red, and _aquamarine_ is- well, it's aquamarine. Calcite = chalk. It may be a hard thought to wrap our minds around that things like rubies and quartz and all sorts of sparkly crystals occur beyond our planet, but since they are all inorganic compounds, it is not beyond the realm of possibility that they can occur wherever their elements and necessary conditions occur, which can be on any planet. A lot of the crystals on Cybertron are imports for different planets, but there are a few naturally occurring ones there. They may not place the same values on the materials as us humans do, but they still are able to recognize the uses of some crystals and minerals, and some of them are just plain pretty to look at, hence their presence in everyday life.

Thank you corner:

**Elita One**- Oh yes, they meet the dreaded Ratchet the Hatchet~ XD

**FunkyFish1991**- Oh, thank goodness you didn't think the chapter was boring! They haven't figured out everything to their sparks, but some things have had light shed on them. It was great fun writing Ratchet's character! =3

**Dancinglemur**- I'm so flattered that you think so highly of my humble story, my dear! Thank you so much! I do try my best to come up with the most original ideas possible! I do hope you continue to enjoy the story~

**Goldendreams257**- Hahahahaha! That's awesome! I was actually wondering if anyone else would have an experience in real life that was similar to the Twin's somersaulting adventure! That's too funny! xD

**Shizuka Taiyou**- I'm glad you like their personalities of their youth, but as adults, none of us as the same as we were as children, and, sadly, the same holds true to these two. Ominous clouds hang in the horizon for them….

**Shimmershadow30**- Thank you so much! The twins totally rock!! *w00t!*

**Flarire**- Young Sunny and Sides are rather fun to write for, as is everyone else in this Golden Age of Cybertron. It'll be sad when it all comes to an end.

**Bluebird Soaring**- You certainly have no idea how right you are- they're going to have bots chasing them for the rest of their lives and beyond if they keep going the way they're going! xD Screamer will perhaps have a cameo in the future, but I can't say when… And Sunny's brown frame is only going to last until he reformats, which will be when he's good and ready.^^

**The Copper Arabian**- I have plenty of thrills and spills in store for this dynamic duo, so stay tuned for more wild fun! xD

**The Toe of Sauron**- Ah, that's all part of my job- if I can make someone think you're crazy for reading my works, then all is right in world! xD I do hope that you continue to enjoy yourself as the story progresses- there are so many things that are to come in the future that will shape the twins into the creatures they are today…

**Lecidre**- My dear, you have no idea how much your reviews mean to me! I am so glad you didn't think this chapter was a boring one! This fic is all about showing Sunny'n'Sides' evolution from the orn they were brought online to the mechs we know and love- this is just the beginning of a perilous journey they're about to embark on. I can't wait to get passed their sparkling/younglinghoods, because as soon as they reformat, that's when the real fun begins!

**DitzyMusicLover**- I wasn't aware that I made Ratchet seem like one of the kids; I treated his character as fairly as I could. *shrug* Oh well, there's always different interpretations to each piece of writing. It was a fun treat bringing Jetfire in, though. He was a fun mech to characterize. And as for Valentine's Day…Uh, I don't celebrate out of moral choice, not because I have no one to celebrate with (I have plenty of those)- the fact the whole day is geared towards supporting the death-chocolate and blood-diamond trades is utterly disgusting, and I will not have a part in adding to the suffering of the world.

**Dankesque**- I'm mighty glad that you enjoy my characterizations of Sunny'n'Sides as 'kids'- like I said in the prologue, I'm a complete phobe when it comes to babies, so hell would freeze over long before I voluntarily wrote a baby character. Besides, this is a robotic species with the capability of programming in the mindset they want into whomever they want, so why go through all the headaches of the baby stage, and simply online the critters at a more developed stage? I wish humans could do that. -_-

**Bunnylass**- My dear, I have no idea how you do it. Every time, every single time, I read one of your reviews, I'm left floating and smiling like an idiot. I was reading your review while waiting between classes, and it certainly brightened the rest of my miserable day~ You touch on all the right subjects, and throw such wonderful love into every review- if I could hug you, I would! Hopefully sometime in the future, I'll reveal the how's and why's of Barricade's defection to Megatron, but you'll have to keep your eyes peeled, for it might not be here, but in another fic, or a one-shot, or hidden somewhere secret, in-between the lines and you may have to connect the dots~ I do so love creating puzzles for my readers. Much love, my friend. I hope you enjoy this chapter.^^

**Ladyofthedrgns**- Somersaults certainly are hard to do when you don't have the coordination… I got them quick, but it took a while to do a cartwheel. Thanks so much for the review. I do hope you enjoy the rest of the story.

**Chloo**- You nailed the exact reasons why I'm writing this fic, my friend! Not just to showcase the deeper relationship between the Twins and Ratchet, but with everyone in the WE universe. It's just bits and pieces here and there, but if you squint, puzzle pieces do start to fit together…

Props to a very special friend of mine**, Violetlight, **who has been a brilliant shining quasar amongst black dwarf stars; without out her, the grammar/spelling of the first half of the chapter would be even shittier than it is. Much love, **Violet**! You're the best editor a frazzled writer could ever befriend!

**Read and review as you please, my dears! Enjoy!^^**

**Surface of the Sun  
****Chapter 4: Part I**

Blindside crouched anxiously in the entrance of the coliseum, staring down his Creations with a notable amount of anxiousness. "Now, be sure to listen to everything Thrillride and Blaze tells you."

"We will," they chimed obediently.

The star-spangled mech nodded, carrying on. "When you're out in the city, do _not_ leave the range of their spark resonance scanners."

"We won't," they assured with light shakes of their heads.

"Good. Did you both download the session on proper transport way behavior- how to respect the ways _and_ the bots driving on them?"

"Yes," they sighed.

"_And_ you downloaded the files on how to properly operate on and around the ways while in bipedal mode?"

"We did."

Blindside whistled anxiously, thinking of what else he could possibly assure himself of. "You two downloaded the maps of the city as well, yes? Just in case you get separated from either Blaze or Thrillride…"

"Uh-huh."

"And you highlighted where every Security Response station is in the city so you know where to go if you get lost?"

"'Course we did."

"The Youth Sector, too- just in case-?"

"_Yes."_ Between the pair, they were getting irritated. With each question being asked, it was becoming increasingly hard to resist the urge to roll their optics that their Creator.

Blindside sighed, poking and prodding the twins every now and then to make sure their plating was in the right place, and that not a speck of dirt could be seen. He never seemed to be able to satisfy himself with Sideswipe's right shoulder, whose plating was quirked up at an 8 degree angle. On a normal orn, it wouldn't be something to worry about, but seeing as they were heading out into the spark of Centaurie Tetrax, with all those optics bound to be watching, the last thing Blindside wanted was for his sparklings to look like a pair of half-bit hooligans. He wished that today could have at least been washing orn so he could scrub them down before they left; Flip may have run them under the taps that morning, but they were still looking a little dull…

"Maybe… Maybe I should run you by the racks before you leave," Blindside murmured, poking once more at Sideswipe's errant shoulder. "Not a full wash, but something to brighten up your armor."

Sideswipe hissed, dancing away from his Creator's intruding hands. "We're fine! We're fine!" he whined, desperate not to go to the wash racks. It was a chore that he hated just as much as the other stuntmechs; their distribution system had been acting funny for the past couple of orns and they had yet to get someone in the look at the problem, so washes were either too hot or too cold, too acidic or too basic, too much pressure, or not enough. The older bots had thicker plating and could easily put up with the abuse, even if it was annoying; the twins, as delicate as their first frames were, did not have such an easy time. But, even on a good orn, washing orn was a chore from the pit. Maintenance on a performer was a lot more intense than a normal mech, seeing as presentation was 99 percent of their function; they had to get _everything_ off, first with a basic scrub, then with an acidic scrub- if places were too hard to reach for the drones of the microbots, the plating was removed and cleaned that way; coats of paint touched-up or reapplied, polished, and then polished again; old lubricants drained and replaced; energon manually filtered, and sometimes even drained completely from the bot's reservoir tanks and replaced with new energon; hydraulics re-pressurized; joints oiled; thrusters realigned… it was the orn from the pit for everyone.

Sunstreaker looked down at himself, at the clunky brown armor that never seemed to shine as brightly as his brother's. "I'd like a polish, maybe," he chirped.

Blindside leapt upon the idea, nodding eagerly. "Yes, of course, a polish. That'll brighten you before you go-."

"-Are you still fussing over them, Blindside?" Wildride called from down the hall as he, Blaze, and Thrillride came around the corner in their alt modes. As soon as they came abreast of the trio, the stuntmechs snapped back into their bipedal modes.

"I'm not fussing! I'm just making sure they're prepared for the outside world," Blindside countered, though he had already snatched up Sunstreaker and was trying to scratch off a bit of perceived dirt from the top of the sparkling's head, which was not dirt at all but a shadow cast on him from his Creator looming excessively.

"It's not like they're graduating to their adult frames or anything, Blindside. We're not about to kick them out to fend for themselves," Wildride admonished, leaning on his mate's back until Blindside's faceplate was almost to the floor, allowing Sunstreaker to hop away before all his paint could be scratched off.

"Oh, I know that! It's just… it'll be their first time out in the city. Centaurie Tetrax is a big place, and there are so many things that could go wrong… Blaze could have an accident on the transport way, or someone could snatch one of twins up while no one was looking. What would we do if that were to happen?"

Sunstreaker squeaked, paused in his escape, and then turned back to pat his Creator's faceplate comfortingly. "I don't have to go," he offered. It wasn't like he was too keen on going out in public anyways.

Sideswipe all but had a fit. "No, no, you have to go! If you don't, I won't be able to!" Even though they already had a lot of practice with stretching the extent of their bond, they still hadn't mastered separating themselves over terribly great distances without being left in immense discomfort. Being separated across the breadth of the city was definitely something would not be able to withstand for long.

"There's always next time, dearspark," Blindside said in attempt to sooth. He failed as Sideswipe geared up for a monstrous upset, having been looking forward to going into the city with Blaze and Thrillride for orns.

Blaze sighed, looking from Blindside to the twins, and then to his own mate, who looked like her very happiness hinged on bringing the twins into the city with them. The pyrotechnic director relented to say something, if only to end his own mate's begging. "Blindside, I have never had an accident on the transport ways, nor have I ever lost a sparkling in the city. And Thrillride is all but willing to tie a leash to these two if it'll mean she can take them with her. You know how much they mean to her; you'll break her spark if they don't come with us."

Wildride eased his weight off his mate's back, allowing Blindside to rise with a pout. "I never meant that I didn't trust either of you, but Sunstreaker and Sideswipe are so very important-."

"They're important to _all_ of us," Blaze reminded. "You may be listed as their Creators in their directories, but that doesn't mean you are the only ones to love them like they are your own."

Thrillride waved a beckoning hand, summoning Sunstreaker and Sideswipe to her. They came eagerly, stretching up as high as their struts would allow in hopes of having their forehead brushed first by the femme. As was her custom, Sunstreaker was first, brushing foreheads gently and having warm air blown on him, and then Sideswipe seen to just as affectionately. Once thoroughly greeted for the morning, she looked up to the towering mechs above her. "We'll take the most excellent care of them, I swear. We won't let them out of scanner range. And if I can help it, I won't even let them out of visual range. There will be absolutely nothing to worry about."

"Oh, Thrillride-."

She waved Blindside off with an impatient hand. "We've taken other sparklings and younglings into the city with us before without great mishap, so I see no reason why this should be any different."

Wildride clapped his mate firmly on the shoulder. "See? You heard her- nothing to worry about. Centaurie Tetrax is a big city, but it's a safe one. Blaze and Thrillride are more than enough to handle these troublemakers."

"We'll be very, very, very good," Sideswipe added as incentive, hooking his sharp little hands into Thrillride's leg plating with every intention of not letting go.

Sunstreaker sighed, feeling it acutely as his brother attempted to yank him along. "Fine, I'll be good, too. We'll be good in the city."

Blindside looked marginally persuaded, still holding onto the dregs of his worries.

Seeing as they were not going to get any further than that with the star-spangled mech, Thrillride motioned for Blaze to transform once more. He did so, folding into a rather large alt mode who looked more like a blazing armored box than anything. A seam split along the length of his right side, folding up to reveal he had been modified to accommodate small passengers as well as cargo. Thrillride was quick to shoo Sideswipe into the carry hold and harness him before the little imp could go scurrying around in her mate. Blindside kneeled to help Sunstreaker in, buckling the little sparkling as carefully as he could.

"Promise to be good?" Blindside urged.

"Promise," Sunstreaker replied solemnly. Sideswipe, notably, did not answer, so his brother simply flapped a hand in his direction. "I'll keep him out of trouble, too."

Wildride starting tapping his knee into Blindside's aft. "Get out of there already- they gotta get going if their going to make it in on time." In a flurry of fireworks paint, he ducked to peer into hatch. "Much love, you two. Hope you have fun."

"We will," they chorused cheerfully as Wildride hopped away.

"Blindside, could you get your elbow out of my interior- it's digging into my underplating," Blaze grunted, trying to roll away.

"Sorry," Blindside intoned sheepishly, unhooking his elbow from within his friend and backing up. Blaze sealed his hatch the moment he had room; the twins within him waved happily through the blast-proof crystalline window that stretched narrowly along the mech's side.

"Don't let them give you any trouble," Blindside insisted as Blaze started rolling towards the exit. Thrillride paused before she transformed, throwing Blindside a kind look.

"This isn't the first time we've ever looked after them. We'll be just fine. See you when we get back." She folded into her lightcycle mode and was gone.

* * *

This was the first time they were allowed out in the city without being snuck out hidden in Flicker's frame. The fact that they were actually _allowed_ to be beyond the coliseum's high walls made Centaurie Tetrax seem a whole lot bigger and grander than before, alive with infinite possibilities. At that very moment, all four of them were cruising along the main ways of the city, jostled on every side by bright and eager commuters, the cityscape unfolding above and below the vast horizons like an unending puzzle, alive and gleaming busy. The noise was _fantastic_; an eclectic mix of electric buzzing, engines humming, thrusters burning the skies above, and the occasional collective noise of clashing signals as they crossed in the path of two speakers playing from different hubs. Strapped as they were in their harnesses, the twins could do nothing but peer out into the world from where they sat, optics wide and mouthplates agape. They were practically squirming in their seats from excitement.

"Look at all the colours," Sunstreaker exclaimed as they passed above another transport way for a lower level, seeing a vein of bright rainbow coloured Cybertronians as they jostled their way to their destinations.

"Look at him up there!" Sideswipe crowed, a hot zing of excitement wrenching through the both of them as he caught site of a bright red jet amongst the fliers in the airways.

"Look at Thrillride! Look at what she's doing!" Sunstreaker laughed, pointing as the femme reared onto her back wheel and skipped beside Blaze's window for their entertainment.

Sideswipe squealed, clapping his hands. "No, no, no, look at the microbot over there! Look at him!" A hover-pod microbot coming down on a lift literally _sparkled_ amongst his peers in the shaft of thin morning light they passed through, his entire frame accented in a delicate latticework of intricate white-tungsten metalwork, shimmering like arachnid webs against the deep black of his plating.

"He's beautiful," Sunstreaker sighed, saving the bot's image to his memory banks. To see metalwork like, especially a full-frame treatment with such high-quality metal, that was a rare treat. Normal bots would never be able to afford such decorations, and stuntmechs would never be able to risk the added weight of the latticework on their frames; the microbot had to either be a lord or a Council member- someone who had a lot of power and credits at his disposal. Sunstreaker wanted to bring that up with his brother, eager to talk about how pretty the mech was, but Sideswipe had already moved on to the next dazzling thing to catch his optic.

"Brother, look at him! He's huge!" he shrieked, flailing to point out the gigantic mech that was slowly overtaking them on the transport way. He was such a huge being that he threw them into a deep shadow as he trundled by, so tall that they couldn't see the top of his alt mode even if they craned their necks. On his sides were several painted glyphs and official emblems, a few that the sparklings recognized and a few that they didn't.

"That, little ones, is one of the Guardians of Centaurie Tetrax," Blaze informed kindly as the gargantuan creature rumbled off the transport way onto a lift that would take him to an upper level.

"Guardian- like in a Youth Sector?" Sideswipe ventured, still straining to catch a glimpse of the rolling monolith.

"Very much like a Youth Sector's Guardian, only these giants protect Cybertron itself, not just younglings."

"_Whoa,"_ the twins chimed together.

"Blaze, our exit's coming up," Thrillride intoned, zipping ahead to make it to the ramp first.

From the transport way, they skimmed through some bustling side streets and hopped a lift to another level, making their way into a subsection of the city known as the market district, where every bot's want, need, or desire could be filled. The level of the district they were on, the highest level, was for higher-end common goods and expensive imports. They knew the moment they hit the outer boundaries of the district because there was an instant break in the spires and skyscrapers around them, giving way to an open square several times the size of the coliseum's arena, and crowded tight with as many storefronts as geometrically possible. Crystalline windows caught in glittering sunlight, showcasing wares from Cybertron and beyond, expensive and shiny and new. Bots of all frame types and sizes were scurrying to and fro through the square, ducking in and out of different establishments, shoving their purchases into their subspace pockets as they left. Drones trotted and zipped and hovered this way and that, some laden down with materials for delivery, others running errands for their masters. The entire courtyard and surrounding lanes that led further into the market district were packed to the point of insanity.

"I knew we should have left earlier- this place is always a madhouse by mid-orn," Thrillride sighed, taking a quick scan of the place.

"I told you we should have left the trip for another orn," Blaze said with a distinctly 'I told you so" tone. "Everyone comes out on shipment orn to get their orders. Blindside had good reason to worry."

"Oh, hush you," the femme replied, her voice pouty. "Blindside is a chronic worrier. We're already here, so we might as well make the best of it. We'll just have to hope everyone has their proximal sensors turned on."

"I'm sure they do," Blaze assured.

There was a little inlet off to the side of the courtyard that allowed Cybertronians to drive in and transform without impeding bipedal traffic. Blaze swung into the inlet and opened his hatch, allowing an already transformed Thrillride to duck in to unbuckle the twins, shooing them out and backing away to allow Blaze to transform and stretch. Being so much bigger than they were, he plucked his mate and charges off the ground and deposited them on the rollbar around his front. Next to them, a small gaggle of hovercrafts zipped in and transformed, the colourful little microbots screeching and chattering to each other in high-pitched voices. One took notice of Blaze, bowed, and then caught sight of the twins perched on his frame.

"Primus!" the little bot crowed, instantly catching the attention of his friends. They swung around, zeroing in on Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. "Twins! Is it really the twins?!"

"Oh noooo," Sunstreaker groaned, attempting to curl behind Thrillride's beautiful plating to hide.

"Now, now, little ones- remember your etitque files. Try to understand, they're very curious," Thrillride shushed, stroking Sunstreaker gently. She smiled down to the microbots, bowing gracefully. "Yes, we thought it would be a nice little outing to take Sunstreaker and Sideswipe into the market for some fun. Being stuck in the coliseum all the time is certainly no fun for any young bot."

"It's okay being in the coliseum, but I like it out here- there's so many neat things to look at," Sideswipe intoned, grinning broadly as he looked about.

The microbots looked charmed and excited, which they had every right to be; first happening upon city-renown celebrities, and then world-renown ones was enough to make anyone's orn.

"Even such young little ones deserve to be out and about once in a while," chirped the bot that had spotted them first. He engaged his antigravity thrusters, rising from the ground. "May I greet them?" he asked, well aware of the strict laws surrounding sparkling/youngling care; he couldn't approach without permission.

Thrillride glanced down to the pair, an optic ridge raised. "What do you think, little ones? Do you wish to meet some of your adoring fans?"

"Oh, yes! Let's meet them!" Sideswipe crowed, tugging on his brother's arm to drag him out from hiding. "Sunstreaker, please, don't be a half-bit. You gotta meet them with me! We're stuntmechs just as much as the rest- we gotta be nice and meet other bots!"

"_Fine."_ With the utmost reluctance, Sunstreaker let himself be tugged from hiding.

With permission given, all of the microbots leapt to the air, their excitement causing them to crowd too close until Blaze gave a disapproving rumble and scattered them. After collecting themselves from the accidental faux pas, they came back a little more spread out, offering their hands to the twins.

"It's pleasure, little ones, certainly a pleasure," one bot breathed reverently, causing Sideswipe to giggle. The little sparkling was more than happy to reach out and touch the very tips of his fingers to the bot's trembling digits. When it came to Sunstreaker's turn, he found that the bot said nothing of his looks, nor did he even regard him with a funny look as they touched hands. In fact, the hovering microbot couldn't have looked anymore delighted. "I've been quite a fan of you both, y'know. My own sparkmate and I have been waiting for vorns to hear from the Council- you two coming about has really given us hope," he admitted, grasping Sunstreaker's pincer happily.

"Oh, Comet Trail- don't tell them something like that!" his mate squealed, smacking him out of the way. "Don't mind him- I swear, he doesn't know where his processor is half the time. It is such an honour though… Imagine onlining this morning to think we were only going to get some lithium and magnesium, and to meet you instead!"

In quick succession, the twins touched the hands of each excited little Cybertronian, and once each bot was greeted they fluttered off into the nearest shop, leaving Thrillride to pet the twins soothingly.

"You did so well, my dearest brightsparks," she praised happily. She took Sunstreaker's faceplate and rubbed her own faceplate to him. "You especially, my sunny little bot. You put on such a handsome smile."

"It… wasn't so bad," Sunstreaker shrugged, still a little overwhelmed. He kind of liked the positive attention, everyone clamouring to touch his pincer. It was sort of fun, if he didn't think too much about it.

"It's the life of the well-known," Blaze said kindly, beginning to wander into the square. "You're recognized wherever you go, and everyone wants to touch your hand."

"Of course, if you two decide to take on the same function as the rest of us, you get used to all the attention," Thrillride assured.

"It's fun," Sideswipe laughed. "Is it going to be like this all orn?"

"Perhaps not all orn, but you certainly will come across admirers," the femme laughed.

Blaze consulted the list the troop had put together. "I think it best we pick up the light stuff first, and then head down to the lower levels for our orders," he reasoned, easing his way through the hubbub until he came upon a gleaming storefront boasting of fluid maintenance materials showcased in burbling quartz and corundum canisters. "Everyone will be needing something out of here."

The instant they were within the doors, a minibot was upon them. "Blaze, Thrillride, my favourite patrons!" he crowed, taking Blaze's hand and clapping it between his own. "What can I do for you this fine orn? Anything at all, my dears! Business has been booming like you wouldn't believe!" Blaze opened his mouthplates to say something, but was cut off as the merchant crowed something anew. "I bet I can guess what you're looking for! I just got a new shipment in of a premiere lubricant, it's almost like liquid-hydrogen in your lines it's that light! Great for fast little performers needing the extra speed, yes? Surely that's what you've come all this way for; rest assured that I will see to your needs like no other!"

Thrillride rolled her optics. "Always with the sales pitches, Rick'em'rack."

"What's a lowly bot to do when he's programmed for the market? I live to serve my fine patrons with the best of fluids- no other service will do," Rick'em'rack sighed expansively, unabashed. He took Thrillride by the hand and tugged her from her perch. "You stuntmechs work your frames so hard for the entertainment of others- orn in, orn out- the wear on your joints is truly _abominable_. I have a love of the arts, and I truly do appreciate the effort you put into performing your shows. Dear Thrillride, my fine femme friend, the least I could do is supply you with my finest wares."

"We don't want to wear anything down, though- we're here to get new stuff," Sunstreaker suddenly intoned. He was curious of the shop, craning his neck to peer high above him to the shelves upon shelves of clear canisters containing every manner of fluid a Cybertronian needed to maintenance their frame; hydraulic fluid, lubricants, system flushing liquid, acid wash, basic wash, and even mineralized water from the ice rings of Juk'lic, a planet wayyy outside their solar system.

"_Wares_, Sunstreaker, not _wears,_" Blaze corrected, stressing the pitch of the whistles on the end of the words. It was an easy mistake to mix the two words up, which most sparklings did; the short, two-toned whistle required to voice 'wares' was really quite similar to the trilling whistle of 'wears'. Sunstreaker, a little flustered, repeated both whistles, and then turned to Rick'em'rack with an embarrassed bow.

Rick'em'rack whistled, waving off the sparkling with the social grace he was programmed for. "My dear little sparkling, my sole existence hinges on supplying you and your kin with the newest and best of all things your sparks would desire! Anything at all that you think your frame would need for a little extra sparkle, and I'll have it at your disposal in moments! Wares upon wares from all corners of the galaxy- liquids of all kinds; thick, thin, carbonated, or smooth as silk."

"Are you magic?" Sideswipe queried excitedly.

"Only if you want me to be," Rick'em'rack laughed, looking to Blaze first before stroking the pair over their heads. "Now, come! Come! List off the pretty little things you've been sent here to get and we'll load up a drone for you and send it on its way-."

In short order, the list of needed material was transferred into Rick'em'rack's capable hands, who went about happily seeing to their needs. Several drones were summoned from the backshop, all toting large, round empty canisters. Ordering them each to their tasks, they went about filling the canisters with the right fluids needed, one of the drones folding up into a little hover-pod to allow its fellow drones to load it up. Once full, Rick'em'rack programmed the coordinates of the coliseum and slapped the drone out of the door.

"And that, my dearsparks, is how you do business," he announced proudly as he turned back to his most favoured patrons.

"Thanks again for your wonderful service," Blaze said graciously, offering his hand in order to transfer the credits needed to pay for their purchases.

Rick'em'rack threw his hands in the air, gasping brilliantly. "Oh no! No, no, no, no!"

Blaze drew his hand back, looking surprised. "Is there something the matter with your transfer uplinks? Do you need me to manually transfer credits to your accounts?"

The merchant twittered, flapping and blustering. "Blaze, shame on you! You bring those wonderful creatures into my shop, stir up such wonderful business for me, and you expect me to make you pay? How could I possibly _think_ of doing a thing like that? Shoo, my friends, shoo! You insult me with your credits! Look at the business you've brought me! Out, out, out before I call Security Reposnse on you- I will not take your credits even if you paid me to-!" They were shoved out the door, forcing the curious crowd that had gathered to part to allow them through. The stuntmechs and their charges bowed dazedly, escaping out into the square. Rick'em'rack darted out of his shop on their afts, ready to insinuate himself into the crowd and drag a few bots back into his shop.

"Where next?" Sideswipe laughed, eager to find out what adventure awaited them in the next shop.

Blaze craned over the crowd to see if he could spot the next closest shop they needed to go to. "We'll have to make stops at a few other frame maintenance shops for parts and replacement plating, then the paint shop to pick up our order of mica-paint."

"And then?" Sunstreaker enquired curiously.

"Ah, well- then we'll stop at a mineral shop."

"A mineral shop," the brown sparkling repeated.

Blaze nodded. "You two are getting quite old, after all. It's time to start getting you used to energon with higher energy gradients and different compositions. Lithium and silicon will be gentle enough on your tanks." He paused, glancing down to his mate, who was consulting the same list he was. "Anything else we'll need on this level?"

"Well, I have been wanting to stop by _Off Worlder's_ to see what they have in, but I think I'll save that for another time when it's just you and me," Thrillride said. "For now, I think it would be best to get what we need on this level and make our way down into the industrial districts to get everything else."

"Sounds like a plan," Blaze nodded, already beginning to cut a path for them through the market square. While they were stopped often enough by fans of the troop, or admirers of the twins, the morning passed in a quick succession of colourful shops and even more colourful shopkeepers, each one clamouring to offer their wares in an almost recklessly helpful fashion.

Their last stop in the market was the mineral shop, where Sunstreaker and Sideswipe were leased to the floor and allowed to run around happily, greeting delighted bots as they pleased. Sunstreaker was even enjoying himself to an extent, finding that bots didn't look at him quite as funnily as they first had; they grinned broadly and touched hands, or even bumped foreheads, in the exact same manner they greeted Sideswipe. It was a nice to not feel ugly. While Blaze excused himself from the shop, running across the way for an order he just realized he'd forgot, Thrillride stayed to chat amiably with the in-shop merchant, Amethyst. The shopkeeper, much like every other bot in the district, was more than happy to cater to her patrons' needs, _especially_ the twins' needs. She was even kind enough to treat them to free samples of energon mixed with liquid-hydrogen, which they found lovely and bubbly, and made them feel funny inside in a good way. Since their purchases were rather small, Thrillride was able to store them in her subspace pocket, and then ushered her excited charges outside when she got a summons from Blaze through their bond. He was waiting for them outside, kneeling with his hands out.

"What in the world are you doing?" Thrillride asked, optic ridge raised.

"Well, I knew you wanted to go to _Off_ _Worlder_'s, so..." He held out a thin chain of platinum dotted with lapis lazuli and malachite, handmade by the natives of a planet called Minerallia. "I saw this and thought of you. I hope you like it."

"Oh _Blaze_," Taking the bejeweled ends, the femme stuck the magnets to either side of her delicate head, allowing the charms to twinkle across her forehead. "It's beautiful," she breathed, beckoning her mate closer to lay her forehead to his, and then shimmied to his chest where she ran her hand down the seam of his chassis and winked, letting him know her thank you would be given fully that night.

"I'm glad you like it, love," the pyrotechnic director replied, smiling. He held out two more chains on the tip of a finger, sliding them into Sunstreaker and Sideswipe's hands. "And these are for you two." A chain of silver with a bright red vanadinite stone was given to Sideswipe, which he stuck to his chest proudly. Sunstreaker cradled his own chain of gold in his pincers, admiring the glossy shine of the metal, loving the sparkling depths of the aquamarine stones dangling from it like drops of solid energon. He was enchanted and awed by the beauty of the gold, by the swaying of the tiny stones. He decided gold was now his favourite colour, if only because it was the richest colour he had ever encountered in his life.

"Thank you, Blaze," the brown sparkling whispered reverently, sticking the charm to his head in the same fashion Thrillride had. Sideswipe chirped a similiar sentiment, sticking his chest out and parading in circle for everyone to see how handsome he was with his new trinket. Upon his third round, he dragged his brother into parading with him, leaving Thrillride and Blaze to laugh.

"You silly little things," Thrillride cooed, running a thin finger along Sunstreaker's new ornament as he passed.

"Am I handsome now?" Sunstreaker asked, grinning.

"You've always been a very handsome bot, but gold does suit you well," Thrillride said, smiling warmly.

"Sunstreaker is the handsomest handsome bot there ever was!" Sideswipe cheered, dancing around his brother. "Blaze is the best for getting us pretty presents!"

"It's not a problem, little ones," he replied warmly. "Just a little treat to let you know how well you've been doing. Now it's off to the industrial district to buy some fireworks for our shows."

"Yay, fireworks!" Sideswipe cried, leaping to the air out of unadulterated joy.

Out of the square and down a couple of wide bipedal-only streets, they came upon a lift that took them down into the bustling depths of the city, down low into the industrial district. With no access to the upper levels, other than in some places where great cavernous holes disected all the levels so large merchant ships could make it down to their level to deliver their cargo, the subterranean levels of Centaurie Tetrax were hot and loud. Shops stood packed together tightly, some right on top of the other, a few crooked from hundreds of thousands of vorns of planetary pressure weighing down on it. Steam from heated pipes and vents hazed the air into a world of swirlling vagueness. No natural light from their sun seeped through, but that did not make the district gloomy in the least. It was rather cheerful and lively, in fact. Bright arrays of lights blazed brightly from every corner, blinding bots and allowing merchants to snag them into their shops to sell their wares. The large, reinforced building Blaze guided them to was a massive warehouse-type place set deep into the district- it was quite a walk from the lift they took down, and it was stocked full of everything a pyrotechnic director would ever need to make a show dazzling.

"Doing the orders and arranging the necessary drones to ship our materials back to the coliseum is going to be a little boring, so you two can run off if you like," Blaze offered, shooing them gently with a foot.

"Really?" Sideswipe asked, perking up excitedly.

"Just stay within sensor range," Thrillride warned.

Excited to be let off the leash, the twins nodded eagerly and scampered into the milling crowd.

"Where do you want to go first?" Sunstreaker asked, clutching to his brother's hand as he peered about in wonder. The industrial district was like a maze, and kind of smelled funny, but it looked interesting, and it was less packed than the levels above. Overall, it looked like a neat place to be.

"Anywhere," Sideswipe laughed, pulling his brother along on a tide of excitement. "Let's go anywhere!" They stuck relatively close to the warehouse, darting in and out of the alleys and skirting around the massive pillars that supported the level above them. It was a game of tag, and peek-a-boo, and bright, fun laughter. They ran in and out of shops, unafraid to be stepped on, and certainly not afraid of strangers (well, Sunstreaker held his reservations, but so far everyone was turning out okay). Centaurie Tetrax was a very safe city, after all- nothing could hurt them here. Strangers wouldn't even approach without permission. A few waved, of chatted with them briefly, but kept an appropriate distance. At one point, they managed to get a hold of a small chip of calcite and doodled all over some poor bot's storefront, only to run in laughing terror when someone realized what they were doing and came after them. Scampering as quickly as they could, they ended up skirting into what looked like an old forgotten alleyway; narrow and shadowed, it was a long path that led only one way, straight into a small, dusty lift.

Sunstreaker blinked, suddenly curious of this shadowed lane. As he stepped into it, the noises of the industrial district faded. A hand to his arm paused him.

"It's the end of our sensor range," Sideswipe pointed out, his proximal sensors just barely able to register Blaze and Thrillride's signatures.

"That's never stopped you before," Sunstreaker pointed out a little stubbornly.

His brother paused, thinking about it. "Huh, you're right." With a shrug, they trotted down the lane and into the lightless lift. "Where do you think it goes?" he asked, looking around the compact space.

"It goes somewhere," Sunstreaker replied reasonably. "Want to find out?"

"Sure." There was only a single control panel in it with a single button, and because there was an unwritten rule in the universe that _all_ neat-looking buttons had to be pushed, Sideswipe hopped up on his brother's shoulders and smacked the key with a flourish.

Instantly, they shot to the ceiling of the cage as the lift's supports gave out, sending them plummeting deeper into the depths of Cybertron.


	6. Chapter 4: Part II

Ohhhhh, you're all in for a treat~ Before posting this, I had my dear friend **Litahatchee** take a peek at this, and we decided that instead of making this a two-part story arc, we'll make it a three-part! Isn't that just fantastic? I split the chapter in half, and you have **Litahatchee** to thank for having to wait even _longer_ for the conclusion! xD Much hugs and laughter, **Lita**! It was fun chatting with you about everything on MSN! *hugs*

**Shizuka Taiyou**- They be grown up soon enough~ It's best to enjoy then while they're young.^^

**Shimmershadow30**- You certainly do love your Lambo Twins, don't you? ^^; Well, read on and find out what happens to them!

**Bluebird Soaring**- Oh no, the universe would never be ready for them! xD But, they're here now, and they're ready to cause mischief!

**Dancinglemur**- Read on and find out how fine they are after dropping into the bowels of Cybertron! xD

**FunkyFish1991**- Oh, it'll be more than just Blaze and Thrillride fritzing in the near future... I'm glad you got a kick out of Blindside and his anxiety disorder! xD

**Elita One**- Oh yes, much, much trouble! *evil laughter*

**The Copper Arabian**- There's trouble galore in store for the Twins! I'm glad you enjoy the pace I've set the story at- there will be a bit of time jumping in the future, but I'll try to keep it as non-jarring as possible.^^

**DitzyMusicLover**- I'm glad you enjoy me portrayal of the twins.^^ And to answer your question, they're not actually "bonded" in terms of sparkmates, that was just a reference point. As to how I'll explore their bond in the future, I have ideas, but you'll have to wait and see.^^

**Violetlight**- hahaha- thanks for the little pointer there. I just couldn't seem to satisfy myself with the chapter. -_- I'm so glad you like the details I've added for pre-war Cybertronian life- I've put a lot of brain power into it. I wanted to put Swindle as Rick'em'rack's assistant, but then I remembered Swindle was from Kaon. ^^;

**Rebell**- Oh my goodness! Thank you so much for the review! You made my day! :) And, well, I suppose there are elements of the twins younger selves that have been developed from an artistic point of view, but a fraction of the reason sparklings/younglings are how they are is because of me being a phobe who gets freaked out by and fed up with creepy "baby" fics.^^; I hope you do enjoy the chapter. :)

**Silveriss**- Thank you so much! You're too kind!

**Surface of the Sun  
****Chapter 4: Part II**

Fear.

Fear was what they knew so intimately in that moment that it pulsed in time to the terror of their sparks. It permeated their bond, congealing thick and curdling, twisting their insides into squirming, sickening pits of terror. The speed at which they plummeted into the darkened bowels of Cybertron wrought the air into one long, piercing, wretched scream, an unnatural, horrible scream, endless and echoing through every molecule of their beings. It filled every minute space as if it were a physical being, a secondary consciousness following them down as they fell. With even the slightest movement, the falling cage would crack into the side of the shaft, wrenching the world into a torrent of frighteningly bright, stinging sparks. Metal against metal would erupt into explosion- blasts of deafening noise, air scream, metal shrieking, a call of insult from the cage to the shaft, furious to be assaulted in such a way.

Captive within the plummeting lift, the twins were left helpless and senseless within their own overwhelming terror. Perhaps they had been screaming at first, but as they plunged into darkness, their voices were stolen from them, ripped from their vocal processor and replaced by the howl of racing wind. They knew the sound of their deaths speeding up to meet them- it was a chilling, frigid, terrifying sound. With every collision between the cage and shaft, their tiny bodies were thrown as dust in the wind, jarred from the ceiling to the wall, to the floor, back to the ceiling. They clutched each others' hands as though the contact were the only thing tying them to this world. They clutched to the astral presence of their brother, grasping, clawing, crying, screaming.

They plummeted, down, down, down- through darkness, through screaming, through terror, towards death. They fell in a race against gravity to see who would reach the bottom first.

It took everything Sunstreaker had to turn his head, to try and peer through the inky blackness to see his brother. There was nothing next to him but shadow, pierced by terrified pinpricks of light that served as Sideswipe's optics. They wished to call out to the other, scream a name, call for help, but their small voices were mute against the howling. Some things, though, needed no words to say.

_Brother! _

_Brother!_

As they fell, they knew innately that this was not like the last time they fell. This was not life in the troop with dozens of bots keeping an optic on them. Wildride was not there to swoop in with his jetpack to scoop them up from danger. Blindside was not there to coddle them and shush them, telling everything was going to be alright. No aerials to catch their fall, nor Flicker to snatch them from midair long before they neared the ground. No Flip to enigmatically say that everything was going to turn out like it was supposed to.

_Sunstreaker!_

_Sideswipe!_

They were old enough now to know death. Death was the end of something. End of life. Without anyone telling them, they knew instinctually that death lay at the bottom of the shaft with its arms open wide. Just as instinctually, they knew if even one of them were to die, the other would be soon to follow. It was like Ratchet and Jetfire had said during that very first meeting; they were like sparkmates, intimately entwined in an astral sense. They didn't have all of the answers about what they were yet, and maybe they never would fully understand, but they did know they were as much a part of each other as they were a part of themselves. If one were to disappear, the other would soon follow.

There was no Sunstreaker without Sideswipe. There was no Sideswipe without Sunstreaker.

_I don't want to die! I don't want to die! I don't want to die! _

It was a loop of through that caused feedback between them. Neither wished to die. They had barely begun their lives! The insanely desperate wish to not die formed the words into a pulsing physical presence within them. The words rattled in their audios without even having to be said.

_I don't want to die! I don't want to die! I don't want to die! _

Terror had coalesced into overwhelming physical pain. The wild clawing of their sparks within their sparkcases burned like a thousand tiny needles. Intakes seized. Vents shuddered. Energon lines froze. Frames locked tight, unable to move against the immense pressure bombarding them, plastering them to the top of the cage. They were paralysed.

_I don't want to die! I don't want to die! Please, someone, anyone, __**help us**__!_

For a fraction of a conscious moment, time seemed to hiccup. Or was it the world around them that shifted? Everything was moving so fast, it was hard to tell any more. For a mere astrosecond, there was _pause_. And suddenly there was the sense of a great and terrible awareness upon them. Something unfathomably huge had awakened, shifted, and glanced down, acknowledging them as their tiny, insignificant existences were about to come to an untimely end.

_**Help Us!**_

Very suddenly, the twins were wrenched from the ceiling to the floor, knocking every ounce of air and sense from their tiny frames. From the side of the shaft, a spike of jagged metal seemingly had sprouted, and like the claw of some giant monster, it ripped into the cage and tore upwards as if moving through liquid mercury. As fast as lightning, the spike hit the ceiling of the lift, and yet it did not pass through as it had the rest of the cage- in a jarring snarl, metal curling around metal, mashing, churning, fighting for dominance, it stayed, jarring the momentum of the lift. Screeching of metal shorn away from its holding filled the lift anew as the monstrous shard of ancient metal was dragged down by the horrid force of their fall. By fractions they slowed, but not enough. Not soon enough.

The ground came up to meet them. An audio-shattered explosion filled the shaft.

All they knew was blackness.

* * *

Thrillride's head shot up. "Blaze!"

The crate Blaze had been hefting into a drone faltered, and then he caught himself and steadied the box. He knew exactly what his mate was calling about; he felt it the moment they'd disappeared. "They could have just wandered off too far- give it an astrosecond, they might wander back into range."

Thrillride was already to the doors of the warehouse, peering back and forth into the crowd of bots. "They _know_ better."

"Do they?"

"_Blaze!" _

"I was under the impression they were the troop's most mischievous troublemakers yet," her mate jibed, delegating his task of loading the drone-pod to an assistant of the shop. He was at her back in astroseconds, soothing her gently. "I'm sure they're fine. There's nothing to hurt them down here."

"Don't be so careless! There are plenty of things to hurt them down here! And if anything happens, Blindside and Wildride will never forgive us!" Her hand went to the side of her faceplate, scrubbing it. "I'll never forgive myself if those little creatures are hurt! We should go look for them."

"Dear, you're starting to sound like Blindside. That's not a good thing," Blaze sighed. "They'll wander back, just give it a moment."

Thrillride hissed, her armour puffed out in indignation. "I _knew_ I shouldn't have let them out of visual range. What was I thinking telling them to stay on sensor range? What sparkling has ever listened to an order like that?" she cursed, not wanting to be soothed. "Blindside is going to have a fit! I don't even want to think about what Wildride will do to us- he's going to kill us! Blaze, really, we must go and find them!"

The master of the warehouse shooed them along. "If you and your mate need to find the scamps, then by all means go. There's no telling what mischief a pair of sparklings can get into down here."

"Oh, but-."

The merchant waved off the concern. "I'll be sure to send along your needed explosives with a drone, Blaze. Go, you two."

Hardly needing the permission, but thankful for it anyways, Thrillride transformed and zipped off into the crowd, weaving between legs in her haste.

"See what you've done now? She's really quite high-strung when it comes to certain things," Blaze sighed, clapping the merchant on the shoulder.

"She has good reason- sparklings are such precious commodities," the merchant replied. "Off with you, now. Go help Thrillride search for them before she has a meltdown."

"I am sure everything is fine, but I'll go just to keep her in line," the mech sighed, not even bothering to transform as he ducked into the street. He had to pause as an aerial came winging by his head. The tools strapped her legs clattered to the ground as she floundered to correct herself after narrowly avoiding Blaze's head.

"Sorry- so sorry, in such a hurry-!" she spluttered, falling to the ground to collect her scattered things.

"Not a problem, it's my fault, really- I should have been paying more attention to my proximal sensors," Blaze reasoned, handing over the welder that had landed by his foot. "You're in quite a hurry."

"Oh, Primus, yes, indeed- there's an emergency that has to be seen to right away." She scrambled about trying to locate the last of her scattered wrenches, only to have Blaze offer it to her between two pinched fingers.

"An emergency?" He noted the Security Response decal on her chassis.

"Yes- I was up a few levels when the call came in, I'm first on scene-! I really must be going-!"

A sliver of anxiousness slid into Blaze's spark. "What happened?"

"A lift shaft collapsed- I was told a pair of sparklings had been on it! I have to go!" With her tools strapped back into place, the little aerial took to the air and zipped off as a streak of dull copper.

"…_a lift shaft collapsed… a pair of sparklings had been on it…" _

Blaze's spark dropped out of his case, not even able to check himself before he sent his mate into a further panic. There were no other sparklings on the planet he knew of who could possibly get into a trouble as bad as this.

* * *

Something was wrong... Something was very, _very_ wrong. Everything, everywhere, hurt more than either little bot could imagine. Things were sparking. Loose. Rattling. Their processors didn't seem able to concentrate on one thing.

Sunstreaker crawled, pincers raking at the debris weakly. He had to move upwards. He couldn't see, but he knew he had to move up. He pulled desperately at the debris, trying to find purchase in the wavering junk. He cried out as he reached for something. His arm. Something was wrong with his right arm. It was on fire. The shoulder joint blazed, the limb seized into utter uselessness. Something was very, very wrong. There were no notices popping up informing him of any damages, and yet it felt as if the limb were hanging on by wires.

The moment he was free from the cage of debris, he doubled over on himself and purged. Sickening, heavy wretches that dragged up every drop of energon. Raw intakes sucked in the stale, heavy air of whatever pit they landed in and pressurized his churning tanks, forcing palely glowing energon up and out, spattering across wreckage. He had no control over his frame as he gasped, heaved, repeated. His little frame shuddered in painful wrenching tides as he clutched to his right arm, confused and sick and scared.

"Side- swipe-," he called once his processor aligned itself enough for thought. The answer came after a brief pause. Sideswipe didn't sound at all like himself.

"Sun-Sunstreaker... _my arm_..."

Light was coming from somewhere; it was a slow, weightless light that seeped into existence like tar oozing. Along the walls of the cavern they found themselves in, eerie green light started to take shape. Twisting up, up, up, into the shadows of the unknown, naturally occurring phosphorous ores threaded up the walls in strange and complicated patterns- swirls, curves, curls, imaginary claws, looming optics, leaving more shadow than illumination in their wake. It was enough to allow their optics to operate, though. The moment Sunstreaker had adapted, he wished he was completely blind. Despite the fact that the lens of one optic had shattered from impact, he could still see somewhat.

Sideswipe lay crumpled a short distance away. His right arm lay severed at his side, a few sparking wires tethering it loosely to his frame.

On reflex, Sunstreaker purged again, though there was no more energon left in his tanks to purge with, so what came up was dry, dusty air that scrapped his insides like sand.

Sideswipe appeared completely paralysed, his legs pinned by a caved section of lift's cage, the arm that wasn't severed simply laying motionless at his side as if it had been knocked from its connecting socket within his plating. The only thing keeping him from being completely buried was the jagged metal spike that had rammed into the lift in the first place, looming ominously in the shadows as it kept certain death away.

"I can't move," Sideswipe murmured quietly. His vocal processor had been damaged, if the scratchy pitch of it were anything to go by.

Still clutching to his own right arm, Sunstreaker crawled his way over to his brother, unsure of what to do. He couldn't even reach out to touch him, the terror of hurting him further keeping him away. There was a lot of energon oozing from him, creating little glowing rivers along the dusty metal heaped around them. Spattered trails had followed Sunstreaker through the broken path he had crawled; he was oozing too, from the armour that had been sheared from his back. He did not feel his own damages when compared to the ghost pain in his arm, Sideswipe's pain.

"Can you see?" Sideswipe asked, noting the small trickle of energon running from his brother's shattered optic.

"A little bit," Sunstreaker admitted. He needed to touch his brother though, to make sure he was alive. He needed to touch. Just a touch. His pincers placed themselves upon Sideswipe's faceplate, trembling as they were they caused a rattling noise to fill the now silent shaft.

"Are you okay?" Sideswipe murmured, staring up through the gloom into the horrified faceplate of his brother. He turned his own faceplate into the ghost touch of Sunstreaker's pincer, seeking the comfort as if his life depended on it.

"I... I'm okay."

"Good."

"Are you...?"

"I hurt everywhere."

Sunstreaker nodded, unable to find anymore words. He didn't know what to do. Nowhere in his databanks was there any information on repairs. He didn't know how to stop the energon flow. He couldn't shut down neural relays like big bots. All he knew was that if he didn't do something soon, his brother was going to bleed out, and they'd both die.

"I'm sorry I'm hurting you," Sideswipe sighed. His voice was so broken, distant. It was frightening to hear him like that.

"It's okay. It's not so bad." Sunstreaker clutched his right arm tighter, trying to will away the pain to show his brother that he was fine, but the smile he attempted to put on was stolen by the dark, twisted into a grimace.

"You're a liar. I know when you're lying."

"...Sorry."

"Don't say sorry, 'kay? We're alive. That's good." A painful cough shuddered through Sideswipe as he tried to clear his vents. "Lucky us- that thing slowed us down," he said, tipping his head back to stare up at the spike that had very likely saved their lives.

"Mute it, Sides, _please._ Don't talk," Sunstreaker murmured, trying to cover his brother's mouthplates. "You can't talk. You have to save your energy."

Both their optics had gone white. The fall was enough to zap them of their small reserves, and with every astrosecond that passed, Sideswipe neared critical levels. Should he keep bleeding out as he was, there was a good chance he would go into stasis lock. Sunstreaker was already to his limit, the majority of his reserves splattered in a purged puddle not far from him. Stasis lock would be very bad for both of them at the moment.

Sideswiped stare upwards into the vast darkness that loomed above them. He did not heed his brother's wishes for him to conserve his energy. "Where do you think we are?" he asked, trying to discern something from the darkness above them, but there was nothing. It was just dark. He could not even begin to fathom the depth they laid at, the shaft stretching upwards for untold distances. There wasn't even a light at the end of the tunnel to guess by.

Sunstreaker's mouthplates pursed, his pincer once again moving to his brother's mouth in a half-sparked attempt to silence Sideswipe from talking. Nonetheless, he answered, "I don't know..."

"Do you think Blaze and Thrillride are angry with us?"

"Maybe. Blindside's going to have a panic attack, though," Sunstreaker sighed.

"Wildride will kill someone," Sideswipe said absently.

Sunstreaker rocked himself gently, a deep coldness settling in his frame. "This place isn't on any of the city schematics." He paused, consulting his resonance scanners. "I'm not even picking up anyone else's sparks, so we must be a _long_ way down."

"A long, long way down..." Sideswipe murmured, more to himself than to Sunstreaker. He coughed roughly, and then lay silent for a while. He was in so much pain. He hurt everywhere, and Sunstreaker knew it because he could feel it as if it were his own pain. It brought him back to memories of when they had first been brought online, when they had thought they were only one being with two bodies. They felt each other as acutely now as they did then, clinging to the presence of their other half as if it was the only thing keeping them alive.

"You're thinking about what time it is," Sunstreaker said after sitting in the silence for too long.

"My chronometer isn't working anymore," Sideswipe answered brokenly. His optics flickered, his consciousness wavering. Sunstreaker stroked the lines of his twin's faceplate, trying to keep him focused on something other than sliding into oblivion. He may not have known much about treating a damaged bot, but he knew that if Sideswipe fell offline now, there would be a good chance he would never online again.

"It's okay if you don't know what time it is."

Sideswipe was starting to look more than a little unfocused. "Do you know what time it is, brother?"

"My chronometer isn't working either, sorry," Sunstreaker admitted quietly.

"Huh..." The sparking wires from his severed arm lit the inky shadows, making them dance. Flashes of red and brown armour caught in the light. Flickering after-images blotted their vision. Sideswipe remained staring at the spike above them, trying to understand it.

Sunstreaker stared down at his brother, shushing him once more when he tried to speak again, before scooting around carefully so that he could place his twin's head in his lap. "You know, you don't have to talk anymore... please don't talk anymore. I understand you just fine even if you don't say anything."

Sideswipe nodded slowly, shuttering his optics. _We're lucky we're twins._ He didn't speak the words, nor did they come telepathically. The message wasn't as clear as crystal or easily readable as a transmission. It was just a feeling, a very, very distinct feeling.

"Yeah, we are."

_Where did the spike come from? _

"Spike?" Sunstreaker glanced up, mouthplates drawn down into a frown. "I don't know where it came from. It probably was just sticking out from the side of the shaft."

_But how?_

It was good to keep Sideswipe talking- well, sort of talking, so Sunstreaker did his best to indulge him. "It was an old lift, so I guess something must have rusted out and fell over."

_There's nothing on the sides of shafts to stick out like that- nothing that big or strong. _

Sunstreaker stared down at his brother for a long breem, and then up again at the curved spike above them. It was an odd presence, unlike any mech-made design of metal he had ever seen. There were no weld seams along the sides, no rivets, no signs of being built at all. It was just a huge piece of metal, as if it had always been there, and the lift had been built around it. But it was utterly _ridiculous_ to think whoever built the shaft would leave such a dangerous thing jutting out like it had.

_Maybe it grew there, _Sideswipe offered, understanding his brother's thoughts.

"You must have banged your head really hard if you think that thing grew there, Sides. Things don't _grow_ on Cybertron."

_But..._ A strange sense of confusion filled the small bot as he thought back to the moment before the falling lift had struck the spike. The ominous sense of being watched came back to them, prickling along their plating. _I know you felt it, too. We called for help, and this spike appeared._

"Coincidence."

_Maybe. _He obviously wasn't convinced, Sunstreaker could feel it.

"Just stop thinking about it- someone's going to find us soon, so... we just gotta wait until that happens."

_What if no one comes?_

Sunstreaker glared severely. "Someone will come."


	7. Chapter 4: Part III

*Sigh* Okay, I really, really, truly meant to hold off on this chapter until I had the next chapter to _As We Come Together _typed and posted, but as it turns out, a good friend of mine that I've made on this site recently had a cake die on her in a horrible baking accident (in which the oven decided that the cake would not cook, thus leaving it gooey inside), and so in offering my condolences for the loss, I also offered to post this to cheer her up! So, yeah, **Bunnylass,** I hope you enjoy this cheer-up chapter! Everyone has to thank you for this quick update, 'cause otherwise they would have been waiting for a couple of weeks until _Come_'s chapter was up. Much love~

There a few mind benders in this chapter, but I do hope that all of you enjoy reading! Some will smile, some will roll their eyes, and others will have the hair on their arms stand on end. There are mysteries and stories within stories in this chapter, and plot points that not only are relevant to this story, but are key to the grand arc of the WE universe. There may not be all the answers in this chapter, but coming to ones own conclusions has always been more fun than having them handed to you. I'm so very interested to hear about what you all think!

**FunkyFish1991-** Oh yes, I am indeed an evil woman, hehehehe... But you'll see if someone comes for them in this chapter.

**Elita One- **Don't worry, this chapter will reveal if someone finds them or not.^^

**Bluebird Soaring**- It certainly WAS one heck of a ride down. I swear, my pulse was racing when I wrote their fall! It certainly does look like someone's looking out for them, doesn't it? Hopefully that someone is still looking out for them.^^

**Shizuka Taiyou**- Hopefully help will come very soon for them~

**DitzyMusicLover**- Ahhhh, my dear, there are so many great and terrible things in the universe, and so many of them with eyes. I'll let you draw your own conclusions on who is watching the twins. *Cheshire grin*

**Bunnylass**- My dear, I really, truly have no idea what to say in light of your review. I feel like a broken record every time I write a response to you, since I'm always scrabbling to say thank you enough. I even squealed a little when you pointed out one of my own favourite lines from the chapter- "_Something unfathomably huge had awakened, shifted, and glanced down..."_ I swear, I shiver every time I read that line! I do so hope you enjoy Sunny'n'Sides together in this chapter!

**Shimmershadow30**- Awwww, please don't cry, my dear! This chapter will surely bright you a ray of light~

**Flarire**- I didn't mean to leave you hanging too long~ Everyone knows they're going to be okay in the long wrong, but it's always a nail-biter to see what happens to them in between their past and present.

**Dankesque**- It'll be on a hope and a prayer that they're not taken away due to negligence~ If the last chapter struck a chord with you, I think there's elements of this current chapter that will certainly catch your attention.

**Silveriss**- Aren't mysteries the best part of life? Although, sometimes mysteries don't always have a definite answer... *Cheshire grin*

**Surface of the Sun  
****Chapter 4: Part III**

Wildride was the first to transform, resuming his bipedal mode long before he had stopped rolling, which left him flying into Blaze with his fists cocked.

"You glitch! You damned fragging glitch!"

"Wildride!"

"You swore you'd look after them! You said they'd be okay!"

One sharp fist hit its mark, sending Blaze's head to the side with a sharp snap. The next one landed as well, denting the pyrotechnic director's olfactory sensor casing. They toppled backwards, landing with a loud clatter. Wildride's third swing was blocked by Blaze's hand, and then the rest of the troop finally caught up, instantly upon Wildride to drag him off his fellow stuntmech. Flashdance took an arm, Blindside took the other, while Skyfly and Clouddrift pushed helplessly at Wildride's kicking feet in hopes of getting him to back up.

"You swore they'd be okay, you Primus damned liar!" Wildride roared, struggling for all he was worth for a second round with his best friend. _"You liar!"_

Blaze turned his faceplate away, one hand up to nurse the crushed plating of his olfactory sensor. He couldn't bring himself to look to his friend, the mech that was practically his _brother_ among the troop. Wildride and Blindside had placed their trust in him and his mate to keep their sparklings safe, and what did they do? Let them fall down a lift shaft. What could he possibly say for himself?

Thrillride suddenly slipped out of the crowd, squeezing between two mechs' lumbering feet. She had picked up her troop's spark resonances the moment they had come into range, and had sped up her quest to get to them the moment she felt the attack on her mate.

"Wildride, I'm so sorry! This never should have happened!" she called to the fireworks-motif mech, hoping that he would hear her over his own cursing.

Indeed, Wildride did hear her, but that was not necessarily a good thing. "You little glitch!" His optics flashed dangerously, his temper uncontainable. The tiny aerial acrobats were useless to block the attack as Wildride threw back his leg, and then lashed out, catching the femme around the middle and sending her flying into a support pillar.

"Thrillride!" Blaze roared, forgetting about his own damages out of fear for his mate. He raced for her, scooping her up from the ground where she had fallen before an unwitting bot from the crowd was jostled into stepping on her. Thankfully, her frame was built stronger than it looked, allowing her to shake off the attack with only a slight amount of dizziness.

"Urgh, I wasn't expecting that," she grunted, holding the caved section of her abdomen.

Furious, Blaze spun around on the struggling mech. "That was uncalled for, Wildride!"

"You wanna know what else was uncalled for?! Dropping my sparklings down a shaft!" the mech snarled back. Inch by inch, Flashdance and Blindside started to lose their grip, even as they dug their heels in and tried to haul back. While Wildride's temper was something of a rarity to be seen, it was fearsome when it did come out. Just when it looked like he was about to shake free of the two holding him, Flicker was finally able to lumber through the outskirts of the crowd and transform, using his superior bulk to pin Wildride to the spot.

"You've got to calm down before you hurt someone, Wildride," Flicker warned.

"Let me go or I'll tear your arm off, Flicker! I'm going to _kill_ those two!" Wildride snarled, struggling against the large hands that held him fast.

"I mean it, Wildride, you have to calm down. Flip's right behind me, and if he sees you acting like this, he's going to whip you a new one," Flicker warned worriedly, looking to Flashdance and Blindside for help. Flashdance was too busy looking around for their feared director to make optic-contact with the larger mech, and Blindside was too caught up in his mate's rage to do much else but try and calm him down.

"I don't give a frag about Flip! I'm going to kill those two pit-fragging sparkling-losing aft-glitch-!"

Before any of them had a chance to shield their friend, Flip was there before them all. As silent as a ghost, fast as lightening, his hand shot up under a slate in Wildride's armour and struck a vital pump, causing the mech's frame to seize for an instant. In his surprise, Flicker fumbled, dropping Wildride, allowing him to crumble forward in a shuddering, gasping heap. Blindside dove for his mate, emitting a high-pitched keening noise as he gathered the subdued mech from the floor. The rest of the troop stood frozen, not even daring to make a move. All optics were on Flip.

"That was a poor performance you just put on, Wildride," he admonished sharply, his voice cold as ice.

"This is no show, Flip," Wildride managed to growl, optics burning despite his frame being incapacitated.

"You know very well I expect the best out of all of you at all times, especially in any public place," Flip stated. He may have been on the small side for mech-sized frames, but he was frighteningly imposing. "If you cannot handle your temper at a time like this, I will have Flicker escort you home by force-."

"But-!"

"_Regardless_ of whose sparklings are at the bottom of a lift. Do you understand me?"

Wildride shuddered, supported on his hands and knees by Blindside. "Yes, director," he murmured rottenly, optics averted to the ground.

Flip jerked his head in a nod, and then turned to Blaze and Thrillride. He looked the femme over for a moment, confirming that she was alright, and then he asked in a voice that was just as glacial, "How did this happen?"

Thrillride slid from her mate's hand. "Flip... it's was an accident, I swear. We just came down here to get the explosives for the shows- we didn't think it was that big a deal to let them wander off for a little bit. They'd been so good all morning, and the industrial district is a lot calmer than the upper levels..." her vocal processor turned to static.

"If we had any idea what was going to happen, we would have kept them with us," Blaze said ardently, his fists clenched.

The director remained icy. "You had no idea what would happen if you let them wander off. You did as any of us would have done. It was an accident." He turned to glare down at Wildride. "And _accident_," he enunciated for the mech, whose mouthplate's pulled into a snarl.

Blindside looked close to a breakdown. "An accident..." His optics had long since drained of all colour, becoming wide and crystalline, barely an ounce of light reflecting from them. "Primus, an accident here of all places..."

"Blindside, it won't do you any good to have a panic attack here. You have to try to stay calm," Thrillride warned, trying to come forward. Wildride snapped at her, so she kept her distance.

The star-spangled mech heeded no warning, shaking his head to himself, as if his logic center had finally given out. "Oh Primus... Primus... If they're alright, an accident like this could ruin us. What if they're taken away for this? The Council's taken away sparklings for less in the past..."

Thrillride waved her hands, clearly upset by the thought. "Oh no, my dear, the Council wouldn't do that! They couldn't do that on grounds of an accident! We'll appeal to the Prime if that happens!"

"Right- accident. We can go to the Prime..." His gaze flickered over the crowded alleyway where the Security Response bots had barred entry to the gathered horrified crowd. "They're down there, somewhere- at the bottom of that shaft. They might not even be-."

"Don't say it!" Wildride howled, regaining enough mobility to rear away from Blindside. He took his mate's head by the crests and held him, glaring at him. "They're alive, Blindside! They're alive! Don't you dare think they're dead!" Blindside stared up in shock for a frozen breem, and then crumbled, shaking, sobbing, leaving Wildride to flounder angrily. "No, don't- I didn't mean... _Frag! Frag it all!_" Even if Wildride had succeeded in scaring his mate out of having a panic attack, that didn't stop Blindside's fear from slapping him in the faceplate. Temper dissolving, he gathered Blindside's frame and rocked him gently. He couldn't be mad at a time like this- he was stupid for getting worked up like he had. It wasn't doing anyone any good. "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to take it out on you. My temper got the best of me. Blindside, please-."

"Skyfly and Clouddrift are back," Flashdance suddenly announced, spotting the two pastel bots as they slowly weaved their way through the throng. On their heels were two Security Response officers, a navy-blue minibot and the dull-copper femme Blaze had run into earlier.

"Is there any news?" Thrillride asked desperately, having spoken with them earlier about any news concerning the twins.

The copper femme bowed sombrely. "We have been unable to get to the bottom of the shaft yet. I assure you that my team has been doing all they can to clear a path, but it looks as if the shaft may have collapsed right after the cables gave out. Judging by the rust deposits on what's left of the support structures, this was an accident waiting to happen; the moment your sparklings touched the controls, it would have been enough for the whole thing to give out."

The noise that suddenly keened from Blindside was like glass shards down everyone's insides. "I just saw them this morning- they were both fine... I should have told them I loved them," he cried. "I should have said something else, instead of worrying about their stupid plating. I should have hugged them, or drove them myself into the city."

"You had no idea this was going to happen," Blaze intoned softly. "Even if any of us knew... Primus, if any of us knew what was to happen, we never would have let them out of the coliseum."

Sadly, Blindside heard nothing of Blaze's assurances, nor of his own mate's pleas to calm him. He was like any other desperate Creator whose sparklings' were in mortal danger and there was nothing he could do to help; utterly senseless with worry, hoping to Primus he was going to be able to hold them again without having to say goodbye.

"Do you know how deep they are?" Flicker suddenly asked the femme, kneeling to be on par with everyone else.

She shook her head. "There's no telling how deep the thing goes until we can clear a path through."

"I see," Flicker sighed. "That's probably going to take a while, isn't it?"

"Seeing as many of the supports in the shaft are rusted through, we have to clear the debris away very carefully or else we may cause another collapse. Our best estimates are around half a joor to a joor, at the very least."

This only seemed to incite Blindside's anxiety to a new level; his intakes wheezed in an effort to re-pressurize his insides, which had lost every ounce vital pressure the moment he started going into an attack. Wildride was holding him carefully, his shaking hands doing their best to steady his mate. A media-drone hovered over Flicker's shoulder, recording the moment so that millions could partake in the misery of the Creators. Not liking the idea of having such a private moment recorded, Flicker subtly jerked his shoulders back, striking the drone and sending it spiralling elsewhere. Judging by Flip's pointed glare, the director had seen, but thankfully refrained from saying anything, which meant Flicker was going to pay for the damages to the drone later.

Flashdance jigged where he stood, looking desperate and lost. "Shouldn't there be some alternate lift or something? I mean, where exactly does that one go? Shouldn't it be on one of the city maps or something?" Every mean thing he ever said to the little pipsqueaks was running through his processor, making him regret every one. The last thing he had ever said to them was 'be good little monsters' when he'd seen them in the corridor that morning. If that was the last thing he ever got to say to them...

The copper femme looked to her fellow officier, calling on him to help explain. He offered a precise and practised bow. "Ah know dis is news no one wants ta 'ear, but we don' ev'n know what dis lift is doin' 'ere. It _should_ be on a ciddy map, and 'dere _should_ be anodder lift down ta whereva it goes, but dis one ain't on any o' our maps, nawt ev'n in de archives. Strange 'ding is, Ah don' dink we've ev'n '_eard_ o' dis one before. Somedin like dis 'as nevah 'appened before- 'dere ain't no tellin' where de bottom is. No one knows which odder lift to take." The mech was from Kalis, if his accent was anything to go by. He was probably a transfer from one of the precincts there.

Flashdance made a noise of exasperation, which only got him a frown from the officer.

"If we knew where de lift went, 'den we'd be down 'dere now," the mech insisted. "We doin' all dat we can ta clear de way- we gawt ev'ry microbot en' femme in de precinct workin' 'dere afts off ta get down 'dere."

"Microbot and femmes?" Blindside repeated wonderingly, still rocking on the verge of a panic atack. The entire troop was morbidly aware of the media drones recording them, and none of them could have given less of a frag at the moment. They had dropped their fun-loving performance personas behind the moment they had caught wind of what had happened.

The minibot waved to the alley. "De way too narrow fer anydin' bigger dan a femme."

"Figures they'd make it hard for us to even rescue them," Flicker sighed, tall enough see easily over the crowd and regard the packed alley with more than a little consternation.

"I assure you that we are doing all that we can to get through- our rescue teams are highly trained for this sort of thing, and we have our medics on hand for the moment we have the twins. The Youth Sector's medics have also been alerted and will be here any breem," the femme announced. She glanced back when someone sent her a message. "If you'll excuse me, my services are needed." She hurried back towards her fellow officers.

Blaze made a rumbling noise, a deep, deep grating sound that rattled from the depths of his chassis. "Tell me, what are Sunstreaker and Sideswipe's chances of surviving a fall like this?" he asked the minibot. Instantly, everyone's attention zeroed in on the officer, who was clearly uncomfortable with answering such an enquiry.

"It be quite a fall yer sparklin's took, and dey still be in 'dere first frames- fragile 'dings like 'dem don't stand up ta much abuse. If 'dey fell far, or if 'dey hit de bottom hard, 'dere chances o' bein' found alive ain't too 'igh."

"_No,"_ Blindside moaned pitifully. He couldn't bring himself to face the possibility.

Wildride growled, clutching to his mate's armour tightly. "Please, you have to give us something more! Isn't there anything else you can tell us?" he demanded fiercely.

"Ah can't say noddin' more until we gawt somedin' substantial ta say, but... Ah wouldn't get mah 'opes up too 'igh if Ah were you, ya 'ear me? Ah don' mean ta make dis any tougher fer ya, but when dings like dis 'appen..." he sighed, a navy-armoured hand rubbing the back of his neck. He glanced back as someone called him. "Ah 'ave ta get back ta mah post, but if any o' ya need anydin', just give a shout."

"We will, thank you," Flip replied, the only one who appeared to have his wits about him, as glacial as they were at the moment. The remainder of the troop was too stunned beyond words in the face of their sparklings' probable deaths to be able to function on more than just passing thoughts.

"Shouldn't we be able to help in some way?" Skyfly said, peering up to Flip with wide optics. "Clouddrift and I are small enough to fit- we can try to find some way to help Security Response in there."

"You're performers, not rescue bots. You'll only get in the way if you try to help," Flip said, frowning deeply. Something caught his optic over the heads of the crowd, just as a sweet breeze drifted through from some unknown place. There was a brief flash in his gaze, recognition, before he nodded to himself, and turned back to his troop. "I want you all to stick together for now. Support each other, help if someone requests the help but do not get in anyone's way. And whatever you do, do _not_ fight amongst yourselves or I will see to it that it is the last thing any of you ever do."

Obediently, they all bowed. "Yes, director," some of them murmured.

Flip regarded them quietly for an astrosecond longer, his gaze sweeping from Thrillride and Blaze, to Flashdance gathered with Flicker and aerials, to Wildride and Blindside, who rocked together in attempts to sooth the horror brewing between them. Flip had known them all from the orn they had been brought online; he'd been there for them through every tragedy their lives have ever known. They were a stronger than they would ever know, bonded to each other as closely brothers and sisters. They were strong enough to do without him for a short while.

Thrillride made a small noise, inching forward cautiously. Flip looked to her, his expression softening from the ice that had taken hold of it. He waved her forward, leaned down to allow her to press her smooth and glossy forehead to his pockmarked brow, and he blew a jet of warm air across her.

"Everything will turn out as it should, my brightspark," he murmured, turning her around to face Wildride. "You should make amends while you can."

Thrillride nodded, cautiously stepping forward. She paused before she came within arm's reach of Wildride, wary of attack, but found his gaze now dull, meaning it was safe for her to scramble up his frame and embrace his faceplate, placing her forehead to his.

"I didn't mean to kick you," Wildride murmured repentantly.

"Shhh, it's alright. I've had worse," she soothed. "You were upset. It's alright." Her arms went out to Blindside, drawing him into an embrace as well. "I am so very sorry. So very, very sorry."

"That's right, stay together. Don't stray apart," Flip urged, turning from the crowd and beginning to wander away.

"Where are you going?" Flashdance called, even as the others did as they were bid, gathering around the sparkmates whose sparklings' lives were in question.

"Nowhere of consequence to you," Flip assured, his gaze stating quite clearly that Flashdance was to enquire no more. "I will be back shortly."

* * *

Without their chronometers, they had no sense of time. To them, eternity had already passed. Still, they waited for someone to come.

Sideswipe remained paralyzed where he lay, unable to move from the puddle of congealed energon he found himself in. While the cold energon did nothing but send a chill through his already numb frame, its thick presences had been enough to stop his wounds from oozing. A small victory, to say the least. He had not spoken a word aloud for the longest while, keeping in touch with Sunstreaker directly through their bond now. Had he even had the slightest inclination to speak aloud, he wouldn't have been able to, as depleted in energon as he was.

Sunstreaker stayed vigilant, sitting at his brother's head, keeping him as comfortable as possible. He still hurt all over from his own injuries and from Sideswipe's, but by now things had dulled into a vague haziness. He was numb on the inside. He couldn't tell where one thought pattern ended and the other began. The one optic that still worked flickered dully, the light disappearing briefly before reinitializing.

_Don't let your optic go off, _Sideswipe pleaded weakly.

"Why?"

_I'm scared. _

"Of the dark?"

_Yes._

"It's not completely dark down here. The phosphorus is glowing."

_It's dark enough. _The cavern around them had morphed into living, breathing being, whose optics and audios and teeth and claws hovered poised around them. Both of his optics may have been working, but all Sideswipe could see in his limited range was a great and terrible darkness, vague shapes hovering in shadows around him. The only real point of light he could make out was Sunstreaker's optic floating near, and if that went out, then whatever was lurking beyond the touch of light was sure to come out and gobble them alive. He had never been given reason to fear the dark before, but he was finding all sorts of reasons to cower now.

"I think it's kind of pretty down here," he said slowly, tracing a particularly enchanting curl of phosphorus with his gaze.

Not for the first time, Sunstreaker let his gaze drift; sliding from Sideswipe to the void they sat in, he contemplated the strange hollow place. It was dark. It was terribly dark, and silent, and frightening, and yet the fear Sideswipe felt was not equal in Sunstreaker. He didn't mind the dark, not even this kind of dark that was kind of, sort of alive. It was almost welcoming, with claws outstretched, welcoming him in. There may have been unseen things lurking in the shadows, monsters and pit-hounds and terrible things meant to eat sparklings alive, but there were no looming bots watching him in the dark, no optics looking down on him, thinking he was _ugly_. Monsters he could deal with, he'd been called monster enough (even if it was as a joke), but ugly- _ugly_, on the other hand, he could not stand. He found he liked the dark more than he knew he should have, because nobody was ugly in the dark.

Sideswipe shifted, unnerved by the feelings he was receiving from his brother. He couldn't understand them completely. He attempted to turn his attentions elsewhere, trying to focus on something, when he was having such a hard time trying to remember everything else but Sunstreaker's name. He stared up, up, up into the eerie green-glowing gloom, and found that it felt as if something were staring back.

_Don't you get the feeling there's something down here with us?_

It took a while for Sunstreaker to answer, because he was reluctant to admit to the heavy gaze that weighed down on him like a physical presence. "Sort of."

_It's watching us, isn't it?_

"I think so."

Something big and silent, something so immense that the air was charged by it, made heavy and powerful, sat in wait beyond the realm of what they could see. Something was watching them. Or maybe it was all in their heads? They were scared little sparklings, after all. What did they know?

_I just want someone to come find us, Sunstreaker. I'm scared. _

"Just hold on, Sides. I bet someone's on their way right now."

Sideswipe barely had the strength to sigh anymore. _Someone better be on the way. I'm tired._

"I thought you said you were scared?"

There was a moment of confusion, and then Sideswipe was vaguely able to hold onto a thought. _Yeah... I'm scared **and** tired. _He tried to focus his limited concentration elsewhere to that his brother wouldn't realize he was forgetting things, too.

"You can be scared and tired if you want, okay?"

_Okay_

Sunstreaker frowned worriedly, briefly catching on to Sideswipe's inability to concentrate. Sure, that was normal for his brother on a regular orn, but he was pretty sure blanking out while hurt badly wasn't good in any case. He was too scared to place his forehead completely to Sideswipe's in fear that he could hurt him more, so he carefully leaned down in a way that wouldn't aggravate the twisted metal of his back and hovered a breath away. Just hovered. "Sideswipe, you gotta stay with me, 'kay? You're not allowed to recharge right now."

_I don't wanna recharge._

"Then stay online."

Sideswipe groaned, a sound that creaked through him painfully. _Easy for you to say, brother._

"Just try, okay?"

_I'll try until someone comes._

"Someone _is_ coming."

The atmosphere warmed fractionally, a whisper of a breeze suddenly travelling through the great atrium. They found the air was _sweet, _tickling their olfactory sensors strangely. Awareness prickled across their plating, a familiar sense by now.

_Tip-tap...tip-tap...tip-tap...tip-tap...tip-tap...tip-tap...tip-tap..._

The disturbance in the darkness was enough to startle them into squeaking, which they quickly smothered out of fear. Something was making its way through the gloom. It shifted in the way of a few phosphorus veins high on the wall, disturbingly high, revealing the approaching creature to be something far taller than anything they knew. Nothing living on Cybertron was built that big. As far down the tunnel as it was, the sound of the giant's metallic footsteps created a cacophony across the cavern, echoing, haunting. It was such a delicate tapping noise, for something so big. The echoes made it sound like an army of ghosts were tip-tapping down the tunnel. No resonance came from it, leaving the twins blind to who or _what _it could possibly be.

Whatever it was, it was coming _towards_ them.

Unable to see properly, Sideswipe panicked a little. _What is it? _

"I don't know," Sunstreaker murmured, easing his brother's head out of his lap. He took up a defensive stance between Sideswipe and the approaching thing. "I'll protect you."

_Tip-tap...tip-tap...tip-tap...tip-tap...tip-tap...tip-tap...tip-tap..._

As the creature drew near, it seemed to inexplicably _shrink_. Never faltering, always easing forward with a loping grace that appeared fluid through the shadow, a being coalesced into their vision that was disturbingly larger than an average mech, but smaller than they had originally thought it'd been. A trick of the light and shadows, maybe? Or an optical illusion. They knew well enough that things didn't just shrink on Cybertron- they had files on proper mass displacement, and what they were seeing didn't match any of their information. In fact, none of it fit any of their current information on beings that inhabited Cybertron. It was not designed with the visual cues of a mech, nor did it fit into the design of minibots, femmes, or microbots. As far as either sparkling could tell, it was Cybertronian in origin, if only barely so. Other than that, it was an enigma. A blank slate. A _ghost_.

It loomed overhead momentarily, and then crouched.

"S-stay back! Don't come any closer!" Sunstreaker commanded, standing his ground even though every inch of him shook. He had to turn his head a little to see with his good optic, making sure to glare.

The creature quirked something like a smile, though its facial design was so beyond anything they had ever seen that they could only guess what the expression truly meant.

"And what manner of creatures might you two be?" The sound of its voice made them jump, not because it was loud, for it was actually quite soft and musical, but because it was in a similar range to femme default range. How very strange for a monster, especially one so far out of the normal femme size range. In all the stories they'd been told, monsters generally sounded, well, _monstrous_. This one sounded downright pleasant.

"We're twins," Sunstreaker asserted defiantly, fists up.

"Twins?" the creature repeated. Her optics lit up the darkness in a honeyed-haze, made from some amber material instead of the clear crystal used for normal bots. "I never knew there were twins about..."

"Everyone's heard of us!" Sunstreaker exclaimed, puffing out, trying to make himself look tough. "We're famous!"

"Ah, I don't get out much," the being hummed amusedly, as if the answer were a very private joke. There was something about her gaze that was old. Very old, and calm, and gentle. A very long, dark finger extended toward's Sunstreaker, the very fingertip pressing to the side of his faceplate to wipe away the grimed energon that dried there. Her touch was as cold as a statue's, light as a ghost's. "You and your brother fell down here, didn't you?"

Sunstreaker stared up with wide optics. He couldn't think of any reason to lie; she was strangely reassuring, in a frightening kind of way. "Yes. The lift collapsed."

"You poor little things." The expression upon her face was still so alien, and yet they knew she meant sympathy somehow. Her voice was as sweet as the breeze that seemed to be drifting about the cavern, which made them relax fractionally, thinking of Blindside's soft voice, or Thrillride's musical cooing.

Slowly, hesitantly, Sunstreaker dropped his fists. "You're not going to hurt us, are you?"

"Now why would you think that, little one?" she laughed.

"Because you're a monster, aren't you?"

Again, she laughed, looking from one sparkling to the other. "Have either of you ever _seen_ a monster?"

Sunstreaker had to answer for his brother, but at least their answers were the same; a very reluctant, "No."

"Then how do you know I am one?" Her hand unfurled, an invitation for Sunstreaker to climb on, which he did so shakily, strangely reassured. Her palm was like her fingers, cold like a statue's, and made from a dark, dark metal. With her other hand, she gently brushed aside the debris trapping Sideswipe and gathered him as gently as she could. Sideswipe stared up in wonder, as if he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing. A long, low keening noise drifted from him, straight from his spark, which only spurred their saviour to rock them gently, humming. "Shhh, there now, that's a good little one. I'm here. I came for you." She cradled them as if they were precious jewels, straightening and turning back into the eerie gloom of the immense tunnels from which she came.

"Where... take- us?" Sideswipe croaked.

"Somewhere safe for now," she replied.

In total silence, trusting the strange being as only young ones could, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe allowed themselves to be carried away through endless tunnels, lit only by glowing amber optics and the threads of phosphorus that curled along the great arched walls. The only sound around them was the tip-tap-tip-tap of their saviour's feet, and an occasional trickle of liquid as subterranean mercury streams flowed through the walls. They traveled deep, and deeper still, into a dizzying maze of twists and turns, the intensity of the air thickening the deeper they went. The optics of the great, invisible thing that watched them from the dark never once left them, only intensified when they came to a set of ancient carved doors that stretched up into infinity above. Curiously, the structure of the doors appeared as if they were part of the shadowed walls, as if they had always been there from the orn the planet had been created. A sweet breeze billowed out from within as the way opened on its own, a deep and ancient groan shuddering through Cybertron itself with the effort to move the great slabs.

"In there?" Sunstreaker wondered breathlessly, unable to look away from the gaping maw of atrium beckoning them in.

"Where else?"

Through the doors, across the cathedral illuminated by twisted stalactites of strange blue phosphorus, they were brought to a dais whose center had eroded away from eons of mercurial drips falling from the shadowed ceiling. Water, _actual_ water, in all its bizarre rarity, had somehow managed to accumulate in the eroded gouge, sparkling in the ghost-blue light. They were set on the dais with a whispering clatter of metal-against-metal, carefully arranged by hands that felt as if they knew exactly what they were doing. Once satisfied, their saviour went about silently splashing them with water from the puddle, easing the dirt and dried energon from them. They ended up smelling of rust and oldness, but at least they were clean. Sideswipe attempted to gurgle something, a thanks maybe, but he couldn't summon enough energy to operate his vocal processor. His gaze drew to Sunstreaker, begging for his brother to come. Sunstreaker attempted to crawl, but his exhaustion was too great. He crumbled into a numb brown ball.

"Your optics are pale," their saviour said softly, stating the painfully obvious.

"Tired," Sunstreaker croaked.

"Rest, then. You will be better soon," she assured him gently.

A new tip-tapping came from beyond the natural-borne cathedral, a new being entering. As with the first, at a distance it was an immense creature, so big that its head and shoulders disappeared into the shadows above. As it drew near, it transitioned to a more reasonable size. The amber of its optics illuminated a faceplate that was strange and alien, its frame similar in design to its companion, in that it was unlike anything the twins had ever seen before.

"You've been gone for so long, Vector," the first scolded gently, not even looking back at the newcomer. She busied herself with seeing to the twins.

"My apologies, dear Prima," Vector said, bowing gracefully. Its voice sounded similar to the range of mechs, even if it did not look like a mech. "I was seeing to a disturbance up above."

"It can't be helped, I suppose," Prima sighed. "It's been so long since- ah, well..." she trailed off, moving her hand as if fascinated by the idea of movement. She quickly returned to nursing the twins. "Do you think you'll be able to help these little ones? The fall damaged them so badly."

Vector came to Prima's shoulder and stared down. The twins stared back dully, able to do little else while stretched out on their backs. A cold-as-death hand graced their frames, so gentle they barely felt the touch. "I'll do what I can for them, but much time has already passed."

"Please do what you can," Prima urged.

Sunstreaker tensed. "What are you going to do?"

"You will see in time," Vector chuckled. "For now, you must trust me."

As if the words were a magic spell, they trusted him.

Without even meaning to, their optics offlined, fizzling out. Statue-like hands gathered them, and suddenly something very warm enveloped them- like the feeling of being hugged. Warmth seeped up through the palms that cradled them, though the metal itself remained cold. There was the sense of slowing down, rolling back; a dizzyingly funny sense of going backwards even though they remained still. The air turned sickeningly sweet, embracing them, easing the numbness away. They knew without seeing, someone was smiling. That silent, watching thing that had woken up and looked down was now smiling. It all passed them by in moments, and suddenly they found themselves set down again.

"What did you do?" Sideswipe suddenly asked, and then squeaked delightedly when he discovered his vocal processor worked. He no longer felt tired, or hurt, or cold, or numb. His optics came online, and he saw his arms back where they were supposed to be. He kicked his legs, discovering them in prefect working order.

"Sideswipe, you're okay!" Sunstreaker shrieked, diving across the dais for his brother. They tumbled into a boisterous hug, banging their foreheads together so hard they saw happy stars. "You're okay! You're okay! You're okay!" Blinded by ridiculous happiness, they accidentally rolled into the erroded gouge, sending rusty-smelling water splashing everywhere, causing them to shriek even louder.

"You're okay, too!" Sideswipe laughed, hands splayed over his brother's faceplate, looking into both optics, now whole and sparkling. "You look handsomer than ever!" They laughed together delightedly, hugging each other as if they couldn't imagine letting go.

Eventually, when they remembered they had their strange friends to thank, they untangled and spun around to say something, only to find they were alone in the blue-lit cavern.

"But, where-?"

A spark signature suddenly came to life on their resonance scanners. Through the doors, gliding silently on antigravity thrusters, a humming mossy-green hover-pod came to rest before them, transforming into a very familiar mech.

"Flip!" They cheered in unison, scrambling to the edge of the dais with their arms out, demanding to be picked up.

"I'm sorry it took so long, little ones. I'm not as fast as I once was," the old mech crackled fondly, plucking them up and holding them close. They curled into the warm frame, clutching to the familiar worn edges of his plating and snuggling to the beat of his spark. Unable to restrain themselves any longer, they ended up crying out of relief, wailing freely and loudly so that their cries echoed off the walls like ghosts. Flip said nothing, humming gently, enigmatic as he ever was. He understood their need to cry, letting them wail until their sparks' were content. Without their chronometers, they had no sense of how long they sobbed and hugged and wailed and clutched, but soon the noises died away to hiccups and wimpers. Sidwswipe peered up to Flip as if he were peering into the faceplate of an avatar.

"You're going to take us home now, right?" he asked between static sobbing.

"Oh yes, I think it's time to go home now. You two have had enough excitement for one orn." He looked around the cathedral for a moment, spotted something to his left, smiled at it, nodded, and then set Sunstreaker and Sideswipe on the ground, steadying them when they swayed. "Before we go, though, we must bow our thanks."

"To who? There's no one here," Sunstreaker pointed out, frowning, trying to peer through the gloom to see if the two other bots were just hiding the shadows. They were very much alone; no sign of Prima or Vector.

"Are you quite sure about that?" Flip asked, gesturing sweepingly to along the walls. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe tipped their heads, looking up, and suddenly realized the walls of the great cavern were lined with giant statues, so tall that their heads and shoulders disappeared into the gloom. There were 13 of them altogether. Frozen, Sideswipe looked to Sunstreaker, who stared back just as dumbstruck.

"Bow your thanks, little ones," Flip reminded them, bowing to the two nearest statues himself, strangely familiar in design.

Shivering for some unknown reason, they bowed. Sideswipe was the first to straighten, curious of something. He trotted to the foot of the nearest statue and touched its foot. It was solid. Cold as a statue should be.

"Thank you," he chirped quietly as he'd been instructed to, and then reached up to his chest where he found his trinket still twinkled. With great deliberation, he pulled it from himself and set it at the dark metal foot of the statue. He looked to his brother to do the same. With a little reluctance to let go of his pretty golden prize, Sunstreaker peeled it from his head and set it at the other statue's foot.

A deep rumble reverberated through the walls, shaking them to the core.

"Ah, that would be our cue to leave," Flip intoned wisely, gathering his charges and heading for the doors. He peered both ways down the tunnels, as if trying to determine which way to go, and then seemingly saw something and decided to follow. When the silence grew too great, Sideswipe spoke up.

"How did you find us?"

Flip's smile caught in the glow of a phosphorus vein, turning it into something that sent shivers coursing through the pair. "The same way I'm leading you out." His old optics remained fixed ahead, watching, tracking.

"You're following something," Sideswipe said; a statement, not a question.

"In a way," Flip replied.

"There's nothing there," Sunstreaker pointed out.

"Nothing _you_ can see," Flip chuckled. Another deep rumble trembled through the air, hurrying their pace along. "We're almost to the shaft, dearsparks. Would you like to hear a story before we get there?" A little unnerved, they nodded, not knowing what else to do. Flip smiled once more as he opened his mouthplates to speak. "When I was a youngling, I had a bot I would always play with in the coliseum. And every time someone would come along, they would ask me, "who are you playing with?" and I would always tell them, "Breaker." They would look at me funny and walk away. For vorns and vorns, they would ask me who I was playing with, even though Breaker was sitting there in plain sight."

"Was there something wrong with everyone's optics?" Sunstreaker enquired.

"Oh no, there was nothing wrong with anyone's optics."

"But if your friend was there, why couldn't they see him?" the brown sparkling pressed.

"Ah, that's the thing, my dears. It wasn't until I was much older that I realized they _couldn't_ see him." Flip paused in his story to chuckle dustily, shaking his head. "You see, Breaker was a stuntmech for the troop, only he had died _long_ before I had come online."

Sideswipe twittered. "You mean he was-?"

"Oh yes, most certainly."

"So, you see-?"

"Things that others can't? I suppose that _is_ what I'm saying."

Awed, and a little dumbstruck, the twins were left to try and process the new revelation. They knew death from their downloading sessions, but they knew nothing of where a bot was supposed to go _after_ death. There was no scientific proof of where they went, so they were not taught it. Things considered supernatural, hearsay, or myth were left to the individual to decide if they were real or not.

"You can't see something that's not there," Sunstreaker suddenly said, albeit uncertainly.

Flip glanced down, chuckling. "You're right; I can't see what's not there, so that must mean there's something there if I can see it."

They breezed into the original cavern fluidly, Flip easily manoeuvring through the gloom as if guided by an extra sense. Though, if one were to believe what he was saying, he most likely was.

"If you can see something, how come we can't?" Sideswipe asked.

"For the same reason the older mechs of my troop could not see Breaker, I suppose. No two bots can see the same reality, you see- not even split-spark twins like yourselves." He set them upon the destroyed remains of the lift, arranging them carefully to make it appear as if they had never moved from the wreckage.

"No, no, we want to go with you- don't put us back here," Sideswipe pleaded, trying to push away the debris being piled on him.

"You have to go up the way you came, or else you won't be able to go up at all, little ones," Flip shushed, easing Sideswipe back down, and then adjusting Sunstreaker within his own little nest of junk.

"How come?" Sunstreaker asked, head canted to the side. He let himself be buried and tried hard not to think about how much the colour of his paint looked like the rusted debris.

"That's just the way some of these things work." He smiled down fondly when they stared back with wide optics, confused. He pet them fondly. "One thing you would do well to keep in mind is that the universe is a little bit too big for everything to be explainable."

He started to back away into the gloom, just as the lift gave a shudder and started to rise.

"We'll see you up there, right?" Sideswipe called.

They saw his optics bob in the fading shadow. "You will see me shortly."

"When they ask about what happened to us, down here... what do we say?" The red sparkling called.

One last breeze blew up from the dark, carrying Flip's laughter with it. "Say nothing, brightsparks. This place, everything within it; they'll never believe you, because they did not see it themselves."


	8. Chapter 5

Whewwwwwww, what a roller coaster it has been for me as of late! I realize I've been forever and a day updating this fic, but I do hope I still have readers! Life simply gets in the way sometimes- you all know how it goes. ^^; So, yeah... just as a general warning, things might get a little psychedelic in this chapter, and a bit of Cheshire logic is used, so if you find yourself scratching your head, thinking- "huh, that kind of makes sense, but I'm not sure how..." you're supposed to. Life's like that sometimes. Make of it what you will. ^^ Be warned; editing will come later, for now, it is late, and I need to sleep~

**FunkyFish1991**- Flip is Flip, my dear, but I would surely like to know who else you think he could be~ =3

**Violetlight**- Yeah, I'm on a mythos-kick right now, and it seems to be coming out in my writing a bit. I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter, though. ^^

**Shimmershadow30**- I'm so glad you liked Prima and Vector. They were a pleasure to write.

**Shizuka Taiyou**- I'll leave it up to you to decide what Prima and Vector were; far be it from me to tramp on anyone else's creative mind.^^

**Figs**- Wow! You read the whole thing in one sitting? That's incredible! I'm so glad I was able to entertain you so thoroughly! *w00t!*

**Elita One**- Yeah, Prima and Vector saved them. I couldn't very well have Sunny'n'Sides dying, now could I? :)

**Bunnylass**- YAYYYYYYYY!!!!!!! I'm so glad I could cheer you up with the last chapter! Gah, you have no idea how iffy I was about it- and then I get your reviews and I practically crowed out loud in the study hall! I actually read through the reviews several times, just to take in the full impact of it all... You certainly have a gift for blowing this humble writer right out of the water. As always, it was both a pleasure and an honour to receive such wonderful, in-depth, and enthusiastic reviews. It's love like that that makes writing these chapters worth it! *cosmic hugs*

**Bluebird Soaring**- You know me, my dear, always wanting to keep my readers on the edge of their seats. It wouldn't do me, or my stories, any good if things got boring. Sunny and Sides pretty much guarantee things won't get boring any time soon.

**DitzyMusicLover**- I'm glad I could get your mind reeling in a good excited way- I really do encourage for readers to come to their own conclusions in regards to certain things. As to where I sampled Prima and Vector's names from, you're right in that the original story surrounding Prima was that she was the first Prime, but Vector is in reference to Vector Prime. My story for them is a little different, so you're more than welcome to read.^^

**The Copper Arabian**- Lessons can be learned, but with the twins, they can just as easily be forgotten. xD

**Lecidre**- Oh, I'm so glad you enjoyed the chapter! I know it was a little shocking to have Wildride kick Thrillride like that, there's simply no excuse for something like that whether the victim is male/female/or an it, but I wanted something that would capture readers' attentions, and it certainly seems I have with that. It's thrilling to hear that you liked Prima and Vector's appearances, and the enigma that has become Flip. I do hope you continue to enjoy the story! 3

**Silveriss**- Thanks so much! The eerier the better, I guess! XD

**Rebell**- Thanks you so much for the double-whammy of reviews, one for chapter 4 part II and one for chapter 4 part II. You're too kind, really. I'm so flattered that you enjoyed the last arc of the story! Hopefully you'll continue to enjoy what thrills this old writer has in store.^^

**Read and review as you please, my friends. I would love to hear your thoughts on the chapter. ^^**

**Surface of the Sun  
Chapter 5**

_How? _

How did two little sparklings, so small that they both could easily fit in the palm of a mech's hand, survive a drop that normally would have killed any other bot? Security Response had been astounded, the on-site medics didn't know what to make of it, and, sufficed to say, the Centaurie Tetrax performers were shocked to the point of speechlessness. As if they weren't already. Nothing could be said to the clamouring media drones other than it was some form of miracle. _A miracle_, if anyone had anything to say about it. The message was instantly broadcast across all networks- the famous twins survived a fall that would kill any normal mech! It was a miracle! Primus was looking out for them! It was the reason for every bot within the range of a transmitter to be glued to the view screen.

As for Sunstreaker and Sideswipe's take on their miraculous survival- they just looked to each other, shrugged, and would reply with the same words they had been told,

"_You wouldn't believe us even if you told you." _

Blindside's spectacular faint on planet-wide media the moment he'd caught sight of his twins alive was captured wonderfully by no less than a _dozen_ different media drones. He was probably never going to live it down. While everyone scrambled to pick the bot up, medics swarmed the twins to inspect them in the minutest detail; there were probably going to be inquests later over the matter of the twins' continued custody and safety, but for now they were deemed functional, able to be returned to their troop. Despite Wildride's desperate wish to take his creations, he was in no condition to take the twins when they were offered to him. While he would have given anything to hold them, he was still trying to regain proper rhythm to his main pump and couldn't risk dropping them.

In a strange form of coincidence, Flip returned from wherever he had wandered off to, taking charge once more. With the twins in hand, easily shooing away the droves of bots that closed around them, he ordered Flicker to bring Blindside back online, and then ordered Blaze and Flashdance to see to Wildride until they were back on the upper level of the city. The orders were complied with automatically; Blaze and Flashdance drew Wildride between them, threading their arms beneath his, not a thought crossing their processors in regards to the mech's earlier behaviour; Flicker took Blindside by the ankle and shook him until the poor bot was rattling, but thankfully online.

"Are they okay? Are they okay? They're alive, right?" he kept asking on the way back up to the surface. From his spot cradled in Flicker's arms, he strained to get a look at his Creations, who stood on the tips of their feet to look back at their Creator.

"We're here. We're here. We're okay, Blindside. We're both okay!" they repeated over and over. When they stopped speaking, someone else would ask the same question, only to have the twins repeat themselves once more. Nobody wanted them to stop talking. Listening to silence was too much at the moment. If they didn't hear the sparklings' little squeaky voices, it was too much like having them at the bottom of the shaft again, so they made them talk instead.

Once topside, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were transferred into the arms of their creators the moment they were well enough to hold them. There were never two other being loved more in that moment than Sunstreaker and Sideswipe were. The four of them clung and cried. When the troop gathered around, it only intensified. Blaze's bulky frame blanketed them, his deep voice murmuring apologies. Thrillride scaled her mate's frame in order to weasel her way in, petting the twins, cooing to them that she never should have let them out of her sight. Flashdance crowded his way in, hugging whoever he could get his thin arms around, Clouddrift and Skyfly squirreling this way and that trying to get some love in, while Flicker loomed over them all, dragging his entire bulk over them in a too-big hug.

"_I love you! I love you! I love you!" _Sideswipe kept howling as he latched onto Wildride's faceplate. When he was transferred to Blindside, he clung even more fiercely, shouting as loudly as his vocal processor would allow. Anyone who got close enough, be it Flicker, Blaze, or Thrillride, was instantly latched onto and showered in crying declarations of love, which were heartily returned.

Sunstreaker was far more reserved, curled into a small ball in Blindside's palm. He stared up into the relieved faceplate of his Creator, and then looked to Wildride for further affirmations that everyone was where they were supposed to be. He looked to everyone's faceplates, to their colourful paintjobs and their deliriously happy expressions, and he cried, and he cried, and he cried.

When it was time to hit the transport ways for home, Flicker offered to carry both Creators and Creations in his carry hold so they could continue to be together. While sorely tempted, the offer was turned down in favour of having the twins strapped safely inside them, Blindside religiously taking Sunstreaker while Wildride took Sideswipe. There was a bit of difficulty manoeuvring on the transit ways as other bots, and damn persistent media drones, continued to follow them home; their bright paintjobs did nothing to hide them from overly curious fans and worriers. On Flip's orders, the rest of the troop flanked the twins to shield them from prying optics in hopes of cutting down on their increasing anxiety.

They couldn't make back to the coliseum fast enough. Up the entrance ramp and into the entry hall, they were met by the rest of the bots of the circuit anxiously peering over each other. Lightshow pried himself free of the crowd, reaching for his own Creation as the rest shifted into bipedal mode.

"Everyone's alright, yes?" he enquired, searching Flashdance's optics carefully, grasping the mechs long, neon hands.

"Everyone's fine," Flashdance assured, offering a small smile.

"You're fine, as well?" he pressed, leasing one hand to stroke over the mech's sleek head. His optics flicked to Thrillride's concaved abdomen and Blaze's collapsed olfactory sensor.

"Yeah, duh." He leaned up, rubbing his faceplate fondly to Lightshow's. In a low voice, he said, "Wildride never touched me- Flip calmed him down first." With that said, he leaned away, and in a louder voice said, "The twins came up without a mark on 'em. Medics said they ain't seen nothing like it."

Around him, his stuntmech brethren all breathed sighs of utter relief.

Lightshow nodded, smiling. "That's good... we were so worried." Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were retrieved from within their Creators, and Lightshow was quick to move to them and press his forehead to theirs. "It's so good to see you two completely functional. Don't ever do that to us again, okay?"

"'_Kay,"_ they murmured humbly.

Flip drew Lightshow away, patting his hand soothingly. "I'm going to need you to do a little favour for me."

"Anything," Lightshow asserted.

"Such a good mech... If you would, please take the rest of the troop to the dormitories. You have all been up through the orn and night, and I'm sure you're tired-."

Lightshow brushed aside the concern in favour of enquiring after the wellbeing of his fellow stuntmechs. "And of the others- the twins, Flashdance...?"

"The usual suspects will be with me in the common room."

"I see, of course." A little unsurely, Lightshow glanced to Blaze; as second in command, it was usually Blaze's job to see that everyone was in their berths for recharge. Despite his concaved faceplate, the pyrotechnic director nodded encouragingly to help bolster Lightshow. "I'll be sure to have everyone in their berths," the lighting director murmured, turning to shoo his kin down the hall.

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker watched the rest of their troop leave with a certain amount of envy. They were tired, confused, scared, a little grumpy, kind of in need of some energon, and really, _really_ close to purging all over their Creators out of sheer stress. Now that they were home and everything was going to be okay, they just wanted to go to their room, curl up on their berth, and recharge for a couple orns. If that didn't happen soon, the tantrum the two of them were going to have was going to reach epic proportions.

Noting his twins' exhaustion, Blindside intoned a plea for their sake. "Flip, we're all tired..."

"The common room, please," Flip said, as if he never heard the protest.

"_Flip-." _

Blaze laid a hand to Wildride's shoulder before the mech said anything more. "Lead the way, director."

With a strangely distant smile, the mossy-green mech creaked his way down the hall. Through the maze of corridors and doorways, he guided the small group into the common room and allowed them to decide where to sit, taking the most prominent seat in the room for himself. The lights of the room had not been bothered with, leaving the skylight as the main source of light, letting the brightness of the city at night to filter in. Pale light from half-closed optics illuminated tired faceplates as everyone settled into their seats unsurely, their gazes tracing back to the twins more often than they should have.

Wildride helped Blindside to his seat, making sure his mate was settled, and then slid to the floor in front of Blindside's legs, allowing the twins free reign to the floor. For the most part, the twins did not move far. They were tired and woozy, choosing to curl up on the floor rather than frolic in the dark. Blaze and Thrillride bravely took up seats next to the star spangled mech and his tempered mate, each treating their injuries with delicate care. Flashdance, Skyfly, and Clouddrift took up various perches on Flicker, who hardly minded as he sank into the cool shadows in the corner of the common room, his heavy frame giving a tired sigh of relief.

They sat for an indefinite amount of time. While any one of them was free to consult their chronometers, they resisted for no other reason other than out of respect for Flip and his unnamed machinations. Even when they could not understand him, they trusted him. It was one of the few unwavering constants they knew in the universe.

Finally, when the old director had decided that the right amount of time had passed, bringing them to the cusp of a pink-skied dawn, he spoke, startling a few bots out of the drowsy daze they'd fallen into.

"Quite the orn we've all had," the old mech said absently, as if commenting on the weather.

"Yeah... quite the orn," Blaze parroted quietly, his solemn gaze falling to Wildride for an astrosecond before he moved to the twins, and then his optics drifted to the floor.

"I'm sure you're all wondering about what happened," he pressed in the same uncommitted tone.

"Sideswipe and Sunstreaker got dropped down a lift shaft, that's what happened," Wildride huffed tersely.

"They weren't dropped, they _fell_," Thrillride corrected, frowning.

"Same difference; they still hit the bottom, didn't they?"

To the spite in Wildride's voice, Thrillride had no defence. She sighed, looking away. "They came up unharmed; that's what counts."

"You're damn lucky they came up unharmed, or you sure as pit wouldn't have gotten off as lightly as you did," Wildride said darkly. It would probably be a while before he stopped throwing verbal barbs at them; he'd stop _eventually_, but not while the terror he'd just endured was still fresh.

Blindside was quick to reach out, both physically and ephemerally, and swat his mate. Anything to curb the attitude until everyone was recharged enough to handle it. "Sunstreaker and Sideswipe are both alright, and their fall was not Blaze's or Thrillride's fault, so if you don't stop being a glitch to them-."

"Fine, I'll mute it."

Clouddrift twiddled his long fingers, looking to the skylight as if searching for strength to stay online. When he looked to the director, he found him sitting with perfect patience, watching them with sharp, calculating optics. The aerial looked to his pastel wingmate, who shrugged, and then Clouddrift decided to try a plea before a fight broke out. "We're all on edge, Flip- some more than others. The twins aren't saying anything about what happened in the shaft, if they can even remember at all, so why don't you just let us get some recharge and put this orn behind us?"

The old mech hummed, almost chuckling, but the sound came out more like a dusty breath of air. "Oh, they remember. It's hardly something one is likely to forget."

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe pushed themselves upright, staring at Flip with canted heads. He was right, they were never going to forget what happened. Ever.

"You say that like you know something we don't," Blindside said unsurely.

"That's because I know many things you don't. When you've seen the things I've seen, it's hard not to." His gaze strayed to the twins once, winking. It wasn't the fact that he could see things they couldn't that frightened them the most, even though it did frighten them quite a bit, it was the fact that there were things that lurked beyond the range of sight that frightened them. The fact that there were things in the universe that couldn't be seen was a scary thought, indeed. It was good to know Flip could see them, because he would never let them get hurt by the invisible things. He was smart and clever and strange, but they knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that the old director would never let anything hurt his troop.

"I think, for the sake of everyone's peace of mind, you should all know what happened down in the lift shaft." Instantly, everyone's attentions were caught, their glazed optics snapping to rapt awareness.

Sunstreaker twittered, looking to his brother, and then to Flip. "You said to tell no one," he said confusedly.

"I know what I said, but I think an exception should be made in the case of family." He leaned down with an expansive groan, extending his pockmarked hand for the pair to climb on. At first, they were wary, but when he smiled his usual enigmatic smile, offering his hand as if it were a treat, they crawled over and pulled themselves up. "Even if they don't believe of word of it, at least they'll have the peace of mind of having one story to lean on."

Wildride frowned deeply, wishing for nothing more than to snatch his sparklings back. "What have you been telling them, Flip? What weren't they supposed to tell us?" He paused for a moment, something in particular coming to mind. "When did they have time to tell you anything?"

Flip pet Sunstreaker and Sideswipe indulgently, lulling them into purring balls of red and brown metal. "They never had time to tell me anything."

"Then how-?"

Flip raised his optic ridges expectantly, only to have Wildride trail off. If the director didn't want to tell, far be from any of them to try and make him talk. Instead, the old mech said, "I think what needs to be said should be said soon. In matters like these, it is best you come to your own conclusions without certain details getting in the way."

Blindside looked anxiously to the twins, who both happened to be currently dozing at the moment, and decided to try for another plea for the sake of everyone's sanity. "Can't this wait until after everyone's been given time to recharge? Look at them, they're so tired, and after the orn they've had-."

"Nonsense, they're fine for what needs to be said," Flip assured, jostling them awake gently, ignoring them as they whined. "If I were to let you all go off and refresh your minds, do you honestly think you would come back to listen with as open processors as you have now? No, you're better off listening now, than listening with your full faculties later."

"_This is ridiculous,"_ Flicker murmured to Flashdance, only to find that he hadn't modulated his vocal processor to a low enough pitch and was heard by everyone else.

"Ridiculous is a relative term," Flip intoned, thoroughly flustering the mech.

Sunstreaker sighed, leaning heavily against his brother, his optics crossed and dim; Sideswipe curled into the curve of Flip's palm, leaving his aft to stick up in the air. When Flip brought them close to his faceplate, whispering that it was their turn to shine, they began speaking as if under hypnotic suggestion. In murmured, mindless words, they recounted their fall, the spike that had come out of nowhere and undoubtedly saved their lives. Swaying gently, they spoke of the cavern they'd landed in, of the phosphorous lights and the sweet smelling breeze. A gentle prod from Flip had them changing tack, speaking of what became of them after the fall- Sideswipe's severed arm, Sunstreaker's shattered optic. Half in recharge already, they thought nothing of recounting the great being they had felt watching them, the creatures that had lurked in the dark. When it came time to tell of the strange being who'd come upon them and taken them to her home in the tunnels, and of her odd companion, something very, very strange happened. The older bots instantly tensed, taken by surprise. Thrillride let out a muffled gasp.

"How do you know those designations?" she asked carefully.

Sideswipe wiggled to his side, peering down at her with lazy optics. "They told us," he replied softly.

Flashdance, the only one not to react, grumbled in annoyance. "Does it matter?"

The femme shot him a sharp look. "It matters." She turned to the twins once more, looking to them with beseeching optics. "What were they like? What did they do?"

The sparklings exchanged looks before Sideswipe murmured, "Prima was the first to come, and Vector was the one who fixed us... They took us to their cave-thingy in the tunnels. It was really big... but, I guess, so were they- at first..."

"_Primus,"_ she breathed, hands clasped over her spark. The wonderment that flooded her was enough to make Blaze feel lightheaded. "Did... did you really see them?"

"Yeah," Sunstreaker said, nodding slowly. "They disappeared real quick, though. There were only statues left behind."

The news only seemed to thrill Thrillride more, leaving the other bots in wonderment. She dared to whisper, "How many?"

"How many what?"

"How many statues, brightspark?"

"Oh, um- thirteen, I guess."

Thrillride looked to her mate, then to Wildride and Blindside, and they look as thoroughly gobsmacked as she. When they appealed to Flip, he returned their expressions with one of utter placidity. He was nether surprised, nor affected in any way by the news. Oblivious to the significance of Prima and Vector's true identities, the twins remained in a slightly mystified daze, wanting to recharge more than anything.

Blindside made a small, unconscious noise. "There's no way they could have known that, unless..."

Flashdance made an impatient noise, which was quickly smothered by Flicker. When the neon mech was able to wrestle free of his larger captor, he leapt to the floor and marched between Flip and his stuntmech brethren. "What's the big deal about those designations?" he asked, short on patience as his exhaustion grew.

"They're special," Thrillride informed reverently.

"_How?_ The little runts could have heard those designations from anywhere."

"Not very likely. They're not in circulation anywhere. I doubt any bot would try and use them," the femme countered, frowning.

Flashdance was undaunted. "Then maybe the twins landed on their heads and their memory banks were corrupted. Everything they just told could be nothing but a patchwork of different memory files. It's happened to all of us before."

Blaze shook his head. "Not for something like this. They'd need to know the designations and the 13 statues beforehand for them to be misfiled in the fall. I doubt any of us would have thought to tell them anything of the old stories." Glancing amongst themselves, they confirmed that none of them had even thought to mention the old legend.

"I don't get it- what's the big deal about them knowing some old designations, anyways? What does it matter if they somehow met some musty old bots at the bottom of a hole, which I highly doubt they did?" the young mech pressed. Impatience was evident across his faceplate.

"You're too young to understand," Flip intoned.

"I'm not a youngling anymore!"

Flip waved the detail off. "The Council stopped including the information in sparkling downloads a long time ago because there was no scientific proof of it happening." He sighed deeply, optics dimming. Obviously he did not approve of the measure. "They're always trying to streamline your knowledge to make the most efficient citizens they can, and yet only succeed in making you less informed than the generation before."

Sideswipe caught on to the implication, puffing up. "Are you calling us stupid?"

"No, little one, I'm calling you victims of progress."

Not quite understanding that, Sideswipe looked to his brother, who had just as much understanding as he, and they both mouthed an "Oh."

Flip sighed. "In these times, everything must be scientifically proven and catalogued before it can be true, and that which cannot be explained is left behind." He paused, considering a new train of thought, and then addressed Flashdance directly. "Tell me, do you know of Primus?"

The mech shifted, shrugging. "It's just a designation we say, isn't it? Or- ah... wait," as a thought occurred to him, he paused to catch it and think of the best way to propose it. "He's supposed to be some kind of god, right? Primus and Unicron and all that slag."

Flip laughed, while the others looked away, hiding mixtures of amused and pitying smiles. The twins remained curious of the subject, and so stayed as awake as possible to hear the answer.

"There are enough nameless gods in the universe without making up a new one," Flip informed, his voice indulgent. "There are plenty of bots across the planet that subscribe to believing in a god, but I would hope you resist such a temptation. Flashdance looked disgruntled.

Sideswipe leaned towards Sunstreaker. "What's a god?"

The brown sparkling shrugged. "I think it's a kind of swear word."

"Flashdance, I think it's best you sit down and let Flip speak," Thrillride said gently, scooting over so the mech had somewhere to sit.

Flip set the twins on the arm of the chair, and then stretched himself out with a creaking groan. "You two listen up, as well- I don't want you missing out on such a valuable lesson."

"Okay," they murmured reverently.

He nodded. "Now, every story has a beginning, middle, and end, but the very beginning of this story has long been lost to time, and so we begin after the beginning, with two brothers at war with one another. We don't know where they came from, or how they came to be at war with each other. All we know is that there was Primus, and there was Unicron.

"The battles between them raged for eons, spanning galaxies, and eventually they grew tired of war, but could not rest while the other survived. Unicron, who thrived on chaos, became a being who consumed worlds in order to survive and fight. Primus was his antithesis, thriving on life and creation; when he came to rest, he could not leave the universe unprotected. Instead of consuming planets for energy, he made from himself 13 of the first sparks to pilot his planetary form, all of whom could be summoned at will to battle against Unicron. We know these 13 sparks as the Original 13." He suddenly paused, thinking of the possibility of what he could say next. Something caught his optic from beyond the skylight, an unseen thing that made him quirk a wry smile, deciding for him what he was to say next. "While their true names and functions have most likely been lost to time, we would know them as Prima, the first Prime; Vector Prime, the keeper of space and time; Liege Maximo, the tactician; Alpha Trion, the engineer; Boltax, the warrior-."

"Nexis Alterna, the scout; Zion Prime, the keeper of peace; Xerxia, the fierce; Sophio, the protector-."

"_Thank you,_ Flicker," Flip intoned pointedly.

"Oh- sorry... they were my favourites," Flicker laughed embarrassedly, while the aerials on his shoulders laughed at him.

"As I was saying, the remaining of the 13- Centauron, the Seer; Maccadam, the wise; Omnitrix, the guardian of life, and lastly Psi, the guardian of entropy." Flip looked to the skylight again, seeing dawn's beauty with a certain amount of peace.

The twins ogled at each other in exhausted awe. Those had to be the coolest designations and functions _ever._

"They fought for eons more. Sometimes horrible, blasted battles that razed the skies to flames and ash. But, eventually the 13 succeeded in destroying Unicron's planetary form. The final battle had been so fierce that Primus was left to rest as he was, and the 13 were left to wait until the next time they were called upon." His ancient optics slid to Flashdance. "You see, Primus is not a god, he is a warrior. A _planet_."

Blaze canted his head gently to the left. He was old enough to have been the recipient of the old stories in his downloads, but something about Flip's version was different. "Some of those details weren't included in our downloads... how do you know them?"

"The same way you are finding out; someone told me," Flip answered lightly. Though if someone were to ask _who_ told him, the answer would undoubtedly be interesting. "Of course, there's no scientific proof of any of this, so it's up to the individual to decide whether it is real or not."

Flashdance, as it so happened, was inclined to think the latter option. "I'm with what Flicker said early, this is absolutely fragging _ridiculous_. You don't honestly expect me to believe that this planet is not only alive, but it's really some giant recharging being, and that he has some kind of disembodied sparks floating around waiting to pop into existence and serve him? _Come on_! That's the biggest load of slag I've ever heard!"

Blindside looked scandalized, and Thrillride bristled, about to protest, only to have Flip speak first.

"That's your choice in the matter. There's nothing more to be said."

That didn't seem enough to sooth the irritated mech, drawn to the end of his tether as he was. He swung around to the rest of his troop. "I can't believe the rest of you are buying into this," he admonished exasperatedly. "Don't you see? None of that could have ever possibly happened. They're just stories- that's why the Council is cutting them out; they're useless fairytales. I can't believe we're buying into the stories of two sparklings who aren't even a vorn old yet- they probably made the whole thing up because they have no idea what really happened down there. They were probably offline the whole time!"

"We weren't!" Sunstreaker objected testily, though he was ignored.

Wildride eased up from the floor, looking a little cagey. "I don't buy into any of this Primus stuff either, Flash, but you have to admit that it's a pretty wild story, even with what Sunstreaker and Sideswipe are saying."

"It's a _story_, Wildride, just a story."

Wildride ran a hand across his faceplate; he loved Flashdance like a little brother, but his patience was spent, and debating thruths was not the way he wanted to spend the orn. "Sure, Primus and all that could just be a load of slag, but why argue with a pair of sparklings. They've said what they thought they'd seen, and that's the story they're sticking with. Maybe they really did meet Prima and Vector Prime, who knows? There was no one else down there with them to say otherwise. Does it really matter if they're right or not?"

"They could have picked those designations up from anywhere. They probably hit their heads on the way down, some memories got scrambled, so even if they think they're telling the truth, it could all be a load of slag. I'm willing to bet a vorn's worth of my credits that the only monsters down in that lift were _them_." He gestured sharply to the twins, and then left for the dormitories with a despairing snort. He didn't care if Flip made him scrub the entire coliseum with both hands tied behind his back, he just wanted to get out of there.

When it looked like Wildride was about to give chase to tear a strip off the mech, Blindside caught him, holding him fast. "He's young- let him go. We should really get the twins to their berth, and then get some recharge ourselves." The calming waves he was enforcing upon his mate's spark ensured that Wildride would not argue.

"Practise is cancelled for today, so enjoy the orn to get as much recharge as you can," Flip announced, his gaze lingering momentarily on the twins before he left.

* * *

Their quarters in the coliseum had a delightful window set into the north wall, catching the orn's light and bouncing it off the metal walls within. Normally, it would have been a pretty sight, but considering all the twins wanted to do at the moment was recharge, the light was pretty darn distracting. Caught in that annoying place between waking and recharge, exhaustion to the point of delirium but unable to engage the proper subroutines, they were left to let their minds wander, which was not necessarily the best thing to do on a good orn.

Sideswipe rolled to his side, pillowing his head on his arm. A barely audible sigh drifted from his vents. "Hey, Sunstreaker?" The brown sparkling didn't answer, remaining curled in a tight ball, but Sideswipe knew he was awake regardless. "Those things they said about Primus... you think they're true?"

Finally, Sunstreaker rolled over, his faceplate downturned. "It sounded stupid to me."

"But you saw Prima and Vector."

"Yeah, sure, _they_ exist, but I don't know if I want to believe our whole planet is supposed to be one great big recharging giant. We're supposed to be this super advanced awesome species that have lived for a really, really long time- don't you think someone would have noticed they were living on a giant by now?"

Sideswipe flopping to his front, sprawling on the cool metal of their berth. "When you put it _that_ way..." he sighed. "It's just, who else could it have been? That metal spike came out of nowhere, you know? And I know you felt him watching- something had been watching us. I know you felt it- I felt you feeling it."

"You did not feel me feeling it," Sunstreaker grumbled stubbornly.

"Did too! You felt that big thing in the dark staring at us, and you can't lie, 'cause we're twins, and I know when you're lying."

Unable to deny that, Sunstreaker rolled away with a defiant huff. "It was just a _coincidence_, Sideswipe. We're not even a vorn old- what do we know about the world?"

Just as stubborn as his brother, Sideswipe made an angry twittering noise. "Or maybe we woke him up, somehow. Maybe we woke Primus up, and he decided to help us."

"That's dumb. If Primus really was the planet, then he has a bazillion Cybertronians living on him. Why would he wake up for two little bots like us, huh?"

"I don't know- everyone always tells us we're special," Sideswipe shrugged. "We could be the kind of special that giant recharging planet-things take interest in."

Sunstreaker snorted, mulling in his foul mood. "We're not _that_ special."

"Sure we are- ask anyone. Wildride, or Blindside, or Flip, or Ratchet, or Jetfire, or anyone would say we're special."

"Not everyone calls us special," Sunstreaker intoned darkly, curling into a ball once more.

Sideswipe frowned. "Who doesn't?"

"_Flashdance." _

The red sparkling flinched, feeling the lash of hurt that flared from his brother. "Oh yeah..."

"We're NOT monsters," he asserted sharply.

"'Course we're not."

"But he keeps calling us monsters- he keeps calling _me_ a monster!" The hurt that continued to roil from his spark was enough to cause Sideswipe to recoil a little, struck by the want to help his brother, but unable to think of anything to help. Nether words nor astral caresses seemed to help the ornery brown sparkling.

"Come on, Sunstreaker- he doesn't mean it... I think he just tries to have fun with us. Everyone knows we're not monsters."

"I don't like it," Sunstreaker growled. "I wanna teach him a lesson."

This seemingly caught his brother's attention, his little red head perking up. "What kinda lesson?"

"I don't know- I just wanna teach him a good lesson!" Sensing the sudden quirk of mischief from Sideswipe, Sunstreaker rolled over, peering over at his brother with undisguised curiosity. "You thinking of something?"

"Yeah."

"What?"

"A lesson." He grinned, the smile catching in the dawn-light and glinting. In a flash, he was up and scooting across the berth, taking his brother's hand and tugging him up. If this was the one way he could help his brother, than so be it. They were brothers; they'd do anything for each other, even if it meant getting into untold levels of trouble. "Come on- we're gonna teach Flashdance never to mess with us."

"How?"

"You'll see."

Hopping the short distance from their berth to the floor, they skittered to the door and slipped out. The dormitory hall was eerily quiet, more so than usual. Whereas there was generally some noise coming from down the hall where a few bots would be up and chatting quietly while the others recharged, everyone was out cold now. No good-natured whispers, no laughing, no muffled sounds of two bots interfacing. Aside from the occasional snort from a caught vent, the coliseum was rendered in absolute silence.

As if guided by some unholy form of mischief, Sideswipe took his brother down the hall and to the left, then down a right, another right, through to another wing of the coliseum, and finally to a storage room whose door was covered in splashes of paint.

"The paint room?" Sunstreaker questioned.

"Yep." When the unspoken plan finally dawned on his brother, Sideswipe grinned from audio receptor to audio receptor. "Come on- choose your weapon."

Their weapon of choice: microbot-sized inking brushes, which they filled to the brim with black paint. Feeling rather impish, and strangely confident with a paintbrush in his hands, Sunstreaker led the way back to the dormitories. From experience, they knew where most of the bots in the circuit liked to recharge best, and with whom they often shared a berth with. It changed often, for those without sparkmates. Flashdance, however, was usually found in the closest room to the end of the hall. True to form, when the twins stuck their heads in to have a peek, they could instantly make out their victim's neon-coloured paint in the gloom. The windows were thickly shaded in this room, so the only light came from a gaggle of bots in the corner, all of whom were painted with glow-in-the-dark paint.

"Okay, we gotta be quiet," Sideswipe whispered, trotting over to stand in the shadow of Flashdance's berth.

"We gotta be quick, too. Someone might come online at any breem," Sunstreaker reminded, surveying a nearby performer suspiciously. They were up the tiny ladder and onto the top of the berth in astroseconds, readying their inking brushes with the concentrations of masters. Sunstreaker was the one to take the first strike, finding himself deviously giddy as a thick black line appeared across Flashdance's bright arm. Sideswipe scribbled for a bit, colouring most of the mech's right leg black with incomprehensible doodles. In an act of pure defiance, they consulted their Cybertronain glyphs directory and did their best to write out a single-word message across the mech's chassis:

-_**MONSTER!-**_

And then Sunstreaker happily drew all over Flashdance's slack faceplate, laughing quietly while he did. Adding the finishing touches to his masterpiece lesson, Sunstreaker was only tugged away by Sideswipe, who had somehow managed to get a hold of the thin cable that tugged down the room's shades and stuffed it in the nearest mech's vents. The moment the poor bot cycled his vents, the cord would release, and the shades would flip up, waking everyone to the bright glare of the orn.

"We gotta go," Sideswipe urged, optics sparkling. He didn't seem one bit drowsy anymore; he was in his element.

"One more thing," Sunstreaker insisted, taking both inking brushes and stuffing each up the open cavities of Flashdance's olfactory sensor. "Okay, now we can go." They scrambled down the ladder as fast as they could, content to think that Primus, or some other great watching being, was keeping an optic open for them as they scampered back down the hall to their room. Through the door, up onto the berth, they tumbled over each other excitedly, laughing with abandon. With their optics set on the door, they waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Finally...

"_**Nyahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!"**_

The sounds of panic and chaos instantly filled the hall as the circuit came alive to the horrified shrieks of Flashdance as he came online and got a good look at himself. With the lesson learned, messaged delivered, the twins were finally able to drift off into a contented recharge, lulled by the sounds of a job well done.


	9. Chapter 6: Part I

Okay, I'm going to level with all of you, I was planning on holding off this update until after I managed to get the next chapters for As We Come Together and Serendipity Kiss up, but then I got two my final marks back for this year today and discovered I got an A in World History and an A+ in Biology! Hells bells, was I ever happy! Ma and Dad took me out for dinner and a movie to celebrate. We went to the pub/eatery in town that has the best fish'n'chips in the capital- I swear, I was drooling even before they set the haddock in front of me. The movie we saw was _Earth_. Sure, a lot of it was retooled from the Planet Earth DVDs, but just watching it on the big screen, seeing the sweeping vistas, the animals... I was already a major tree-hugger before the movie, but by the end of it, I was pretty much like- OMG! MUST SAVE PLANET!!! Suffice to say, I had a wonderful night out with my parents, and to end it, I'm going to post this chapter.^^ Much love to everyone! Remember to reuse, reduce, and recycle! Save the planet! We only have one!

**FunkyFish1991**- Yes! Side's first prank! Flashdance is surely the first of many! xD Ahhh, wild imaginations are the best kind, my dear- if they're tame, they're simply not alive anymore. As for your thoughts on who Flip is... well, as I said, Flip is Flip; he knows exactly who he is. It's everyone else that has to figure out if there is more to him than meets the eye- that's where your active imagination would come in handy.^^ As for the error on troop/troupe, thanks for pointing that out- for consistency's sake, I'll keep the spelling as is, but thank you so much for bringing it to my attention.^^

**Figs**- Thanks so much.^^

**Shizuka Taiyou**- I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter; it was a pleasure to write. :)

**Balrog Roike**- Oh my, some of your guesses are very interesting! I love how you're starting to try and put together the some of the puzzle pieces of WE, although I think you may have already caught a few of the answers to your questions in _Even Angels Fall_. All the same, guesses are always welcome.^^

**Shimmershadow30**- lol~ Thanks.^^

**Bluebird Soaring**- Oh, this is just the tip of the iceberg of pranks- the twins are only getting warmed up. As for Flip- well, as I told FunkyFish, Flip knows exactly who he is, and it's up to everyone else to decide if there's more to him than meets the eye.^^

**Silveriss**- Thank you so much! I'm so glad you enjoyed the chapter! :)

**Flarire**- hahahahaha~ Oh yes, the Twins are only getting warmed up! xD

**Bunnylass**- My dear, don't worry about time or place of wild stampeding buffalo- I love your reviews whenever, wherever. :D It's beyond wonderful that you've enjoyed this little delve into TF mythology so much- I'm blown away by the fact that you actually went back and looked up Prima and Vector after you read them in this fic! Flip's an interesting mech who's seen a lot in his life, and he knows how to tell one heck of a story. And, of course, epic pranking of the Twins! I can't tell you how much fun it was to finally write their first prank! It's so wonderful that so many readers enjoyed it! Big hugs!

**Lecidre**- Flashdance had that prank coming to him! Sunny finally got his sweet revenge! xD It's wonderful that you enjoyed the history lesson/myth in the chapter- it was a lot of fun to create.^^ Flip certainly seems to have garnered much attention from readers~ Flip is exactly who he is supposed to be, what that means to us is a mystery~

**DitzyMusicLover**- Seemed appropriate that they're first prank had a splash of paint to it~ As for the Original 13, Prima, Vector Prime, Boltax, Maccadam, Liege Maximo, and Alpha Trion are all canon names; Nexis Alterna, Zion Prime, Sophio, Centauron, Xerxia, Omnitrix, and Psi are all original names. Who Omnitrix and Psi represent in the 13 are canon characters who exist without names, the Last Autobot and The Fallen respectively, so they're canon, just their names are made up by me.^^

**Rebell**- squee and aww all you want, my dear! The more the better! This first prank is only the beginning of their long career as pranksters! xD

**Read and review as you please, my friends.^^**

**Surface of the Sun  
****Chapter 6: Part I**

"Sunstreaker! Sunstreaker! Wake up, you lazy skid plate!" Sideswipe hissed. He shoved his reluctant brother impatiently. "Come on! Don't you know what today is?! Wake up!"

With a pained groan, Sunstreaker onlined, unable to ignore the calls of his twin any longer. "What do you want?" he whined, longing to simply turn over on their shared berth and engage his recharge subroutines once more.

Sideswipe grinned and scrambled to sit on his brother's abdominal plating, tangling his red limbs with Sunstreaker's brown. "You're online! Finally!"

"You kind of make it hard _not_ to be," the other sparkling groused.

"Good! That's what I was aiming for!"

They tussled until Sideswipe's excess happiness oozed into Sunstreaker, forcing a reluctant smile on his faceplate. He even ended up giggling a bit before shoving his brother off and rolling to the side. "Now that you got my attention, what do you want?'

The red sparkling's optics got wide in a perfected look that had captured many older bots' sparks, though Sunstreaker remained immune. "Don't you know what today is?" he pouted.

"Today?"

"Yeah, today."

"Today _today_?"

"No, smart aft, I mean yesterday. _Of course_ I mean today, as in the orn we're living right now. Don't you know what this orn, right now, is?"

Sunstreaker's mouthplates pursed as he pondered. "Is it washing orn?" he asked cautiously.

Sideswipe hooted a laugh, pout instantly gone. "No, try again!"

"I wanna recharge more," Sunstreaker groaned.

"Please! Please, just guess!"

"Do I have to?"

"I'll keep bugging you until you do!"

Sunstreaker sighed reluctantly. "Is it…um… pay-orn?"

Pay-orn usually turned into high-grade night, which, even though the sparklings couldn't partake in the rambunctious drinking, was still fun for them since Flip usually let them hide somewhere so they could laugh as the other stuntmechs got over-energized. It was the most fun when large bots like Flicker got tipsy, since they usually ended up stepping on someone, and then they either had to call Security Response to come and get the injured bot, or they had to drive all the way to the nearby clinic and explain what happened. Either way, it proved a lot of ridiculous fun for the twins.

"Nope!" the red sparkling crowed, laughing.

Wracking his processor, Sunstreaker summoned his last guess. "Are we packing up for another circuit?" They'd only experienced the whole troop traveling on a circuit twice; the first time, they'd been too young to travel, so Blindside and Wildride stayed behind with them. The second time, they'd been packed up with everyone else and carted along to the shows their troop preformed across Monoluna and Diluna.

Sideswipe paused thoughtfully, and then shook his head. "No, but I wish." He had had much fun during the circuit of Cybertron's moons; it had been a new record of mischief.

Sunstreaker reached out and bonked his brother on the head. "I don't have anymore guesses," he groused. "Tell me what today is."

Rubbing his smarting plating, Sideswipe still sported an impish grin. "Do you really want to know?"

"Yes."

"Do you really, _really_ want to know?"

"Yes!"

"No, Sunstreaker, do you really, really, _reallllly_ want to know?"

Sunstreaker raised his clenched pincer, threatening another bonk on the head. "Yes, I really, really, _really _want to know and if you don't tell me I'll throw you off the berth!"

"Okay, okay! I'll tell you!" The little sparkling geared up for the news, practically quivering in his plating. "It's our one vorn! We've been online for exactly one vorn today!"

It took a moment for the words to register through the cheering. When they did, the brown sparkling looked sincerely surprised. "One vorn?"

"Yeah."

"Really?"

"Yeah!"

"Huh, go figure." He rolled over in hopes to go back into recharge.

Instantly, Sideswipe froze, horror struck. "You can't honestly say you didn't know it was today!" he whined, scrabbling to turn his brother over onto his back.

"Oh, come on, Sides- leave me alone. I wanna recharge!"

"But you gotta tell me you didn't forget! How could you have forgotten! Sunstreaker, don't break my spark like this!" Sideswipe continued to maul his brother until he was batted away. He jumped back on, whining with obnoxious intention until he could _feel_ Sunstreaker being overcome with guilt.

"Okay, okay, I won't break your spark. I knew it was around this time, I guess," Sunstreaker amended tiredly, albeit a tad nonchalantly. "I just didn't know the exact orn."

"Well, it's today!" Sideswipe cried.

"Okay then, it's today," Sunstreaker shrugged, unsure what to make of it.

Obviously disappointed that his excitement was not shared, Sideswipe had no qualms about letting his ruined mood seep through their bond and smack his brother full in the spark. That was enough to wake Sunstreaker completely, even managing to get him to sit up with an expansive _"urghhhhhhh_."

"I thought you'd be excited," Sideswipe sighed dramatically.

"How about I'll be excited for you?" the brown sparkling offered. "That's still good, right?"

"It's not the same."

"How about this?" Sunstreaker crawled over and wrapped his arms around the red frame in a loose hug. With ease, he impressed upon his brother a soft wave of apology and a gentle nudge to cheer him up. In return, Sideswipe perked up a bit and then giggled, smiling and nodding. They'd learned much about their connection with each other through their sessions with Jetfire and Ratchet. Even though they went over much of the stuff they already knew they could do, like feeling each other and reaching out to the other's spark, they still had enough sense to appreciate what the two mechs had gone through to learn more about them.

"Alright, alright, you're sorry," Sideswipe allowed with an exaggerated sigh. . "It's okay that you forgot."

"You don't think the others forgot too, do you?" Sunstreaker asked, untangling from their embrace.

"Maybe," Sideswipe shrugged. "I hope not."

Taking advantage of his brother's returned good mood, Sunstreaker opted to play on his mischievous side. "You want to go wake them up and make sure?"

Sideswipe's optics sparkled brightly with the idea. Oh, how he loved to cause mischief. "Yeah!"

With twin grins, they scrambled for the edge of the low berth. Hopping the distance, they raced to door. What they weren't expecting on the other side was to be met by a mass of legs and feet. It seemed as if the entire troop of Centaurie Tetrax Performance and Exhibition Circuit had gathered on the other side. A cheer rose up as they skidded into the hall, hands of every size reaching down to capture them, tossing them into air.

"_CONGRATULATIONS!" _

Peels of high-pitched laughter rang from the two sparklings as they were pitched from one stuntmech to the next, their foreheads brushed, rubbed, or butted with whoever held them in their clutches. Optics bright, smiles wide, everyone took their opportunity to say their own personal congratulations to the pair as they were passed about.

Sideswipe was bursting at the seams with his joy, ecstatic that _someone_ had remembered their one vorn. "You remembered! You remembered!" he shrieked, butting his head extra hard against Blaze's faceplate, only to see white spots afterward.

Blindside captured Sunstreaker in his cupped hands as the sparkling sailed by in the air. "Of course we remembered dearsparks!" he laughed, nuzzling his little Creation. "How on Cybertron did you think any of us could forget?"

"I forgot!" Sunstreaker squealed, batting at his Creator's faceplate until Blindside finally relinquished him into Wildride's grasp, where he was mauled once again.

"Well, you know now, and that's all that matters!" he laughed, the vibrations from his revving tickling the sparkling.

Skyfly and Clouddrift perched on Flicker's looming shoulder, clapping and shrieking with laughter.

"You're our star celebrities, you silly things!" Clouddrift admonished teasingly. "Even if any one of us wanted to forget, we couldn't! Your one vorn's been all over the media! All of Cybertron knows it's your one vorn!"

"All of Cybertron!" Sideswipe whooped as he was tossed once more into the air.

"Maybe all of the colonies too!" Skyfly cheered, leaping off Flicker's shoulder to roll through the air.

"Does everyone know?!" Sunstreaker asked as his head was rubbed vigorously by an enthusiastic Flashdance.

"You better believe it, you little monster!" the neon-painted mech crowed.

"I'm not a monster!" Sunstreaker screeched in return.

Flashdance laughed and tossed the sparkling about. "No? You sure sound like one," he teased. He suddenly fumbled as Thrillride struck him in the knee joint, leaving Blindside to squeal and dive for his Creation.

"Call him a monster again, I dare you," the little femme hissed, her whole frame bristling.

"Now, now, let's not ruin the morning with a fight," Blaze soothed genially, crouching to lay a hand to his sparkmate's back.

Thrillride was anything but soothed, sniffing stubbornly. With her mouthplates still pursed, she shoved her way through the mass of legs to Blindside, who was coddling Sunstreaker again. She held her arms out to hold him, demanding her turn with him. "You're not a monster, are you? My dearest little sweetspark," she cooed. "You are the most handsome little thing that has ever walked the planet." Sunstreaker, for the most part, sighed and rolled his optics.

Sideswipe scrambled down Flicker's frame, sliding over his angled leg so he skidded into Flashdance's feet. "Sunstreaker's anything but a monster!" he squealed.

"Says you!" Flashdance retorted, laughing, bending to poke the little creature in the head.

"You're monster number two!"

Sideswipe gave a piercing twitter, smacking wildly at the mech's hand with blindly flailing arms. "Are not!"

"Are too!"

"If that's true, then you're monster number three, Flash," Blaze announced laughingly, bumping Flashdance in the back good-naturedly.

The microbots milling on the floor laughed and surrounded Sideswipe as he continued to rail at the neon-painted mech. He was swept away by the miniature mob, Sunstreaker stolen from Thrillride, only to have the both of them mauled by an army of bots their size, all wishing to cover them with squealing, suffocating _love_. Wings and hands and thrusters and chassis and legs of love crushed in from all sides as each of the microbots tried to offer as many well-wishes as they possibly could.

"Enough of that, you silly things," Flip admonished as he fished the sparklings out of the fray.

"It's their one vorn, Flip," Skyfly laughed, giving Sideswipe a bang on the head with his own forehead before the sparkling was hoisted away.

"That may be, but we have guests coming soon and we can't let our little stars be too tuckered out by then," Flip reminded, fondly touching each sparklings' forehead with his own. "Wouldn't it be simply awful to have you scuffed up and looking like vagabonds for our esteemed guests?"

"Yes, it would," Sunstreaker asserted adamantly.

"I don't wanna go to the wash racks for stupid guests," Sideswipe groaned, faceplate wrinkling.

"These are very special guests, little ones- all the way from Iacon. I'm sure you'd make an exception for them."

A ripple passed through the gathered stuntmechs as they were reminded of the extra-special guests scheduled to arrive later that orn. Flip fixed them with a pointed stare, one optic ridge raised expectantly.

"I take it you forgot all about our guests, too" he said dryly.

"Well, with all the excitement, I guess it must have slipped our minds..." Flicker admitted.

Flip shook his head, hefting Sideswipe and Sunstreaker to his shoulder. "That leaves such little time to get everything cleaned up before our guests arrive. I don't want any dignitaries thinking I run a half-cocked ship back here." He glanced around the dormitory hallway they'd crammed into, to the scuffed floor and collected dust in the corners. They had cleaning drones for the public areas of the coliseum, but the private living quarters were the responsibility of the troop. "This place should be sparkling by mid-orn."

As to be expected, the entire crowd deflated, echoing disappointed groaned. Of course it would be Flip who would ruin their party.

"We'll get right on it, Flip," Blaze assured, plucking his sparkmate up from the floor and depositing her on the ram bar curled around his front. He shooed the rest of his fellow stuntmechs down the hall, dispersing them along the living quarters to perform their assigned cleaning tasks.

Flip watched them move with sharp optics, assuring himself that the needed work was going to be done. Blindside and Wildride were the only ones who remained, their gazes travelling back and forth between their friends to the sparklings. The old director finally gave a huff, shrugged, and made his way to his own private set of apartments found at the end of a narrow hall, annexed from the main dormitories. He invited the sparkmates along with a wave of his hand.

"Imagine, all this fuss over a one vorn. Honestly!" He chuckled dryly, shaking his head.

"It is a little excessive, isn't it?" Wildride mused. "But, considering who we're celebrating, you could hardly call it inappropriate."

Flip's glance to the twins was hardly discreet. "No, I don't suppose I could."

Sideswipe cocked his head, trying to understand the joke. "What's so funny about it?"

Blindside reached up and patted the sparkling's head from behind. "We're not making fun of you, little one. It's just... a little strange celebrating a one vorn. We're such a long lived species- we don't normally keep track of our age as others might."

"We don't keep track?" The little creature looked truly put out by the news, slumping into Flip's mossy green-grey plating.

"It's a personal choice if you choose to, it just gets so cumbersome after a while," Blindside elaborated kindly, hoping not to dash Sideswipe's dreams. "Wildride and I alone are easily over-," he paused, glancing to his mate, "five hundred vorns, wouldn't you say?"

The fireworks-motif mech shrugged. "Around that, I'd wager. Don't know, exactly."

"Alright, we're around five hundred vorns, and we're not even close to the oldest this troop has. Blaze has been online easily twice as long as we have, and Flip probably five times older than that, if not more."

Flip gave a nonchalant grunt. "While youth and naivety do often go hand in hand, when one gets to be a couple hundred vorns old, what does it matter their age when compared to their capabilities?"

"Then why is everyone making such a big deal out of _our _one vorn?" Sunstreaker enquired curiously.

"For several reasons, actually," Blindside replied as he mused over those several reasons. "Number one would be simply because of who you are; you're _The Twins_ after all. As much as we've sheltered you from the brunt of the media, you know very well that your status as spark-split twins makes you famous by default."

Sideswipe leaned towards his brother. "I like the famous part," he whispered happily.

"I don't," his brother grumbled back.

Blindside continued, regardless of their whispers. "The second reason would be because the Prime and his associates are coming here to see how the famous twins have been faring."

Wildride rolled his optics. "It's a bunch of public relations slag," he grumbled, only to be elbowed.

"The Prime?" Sideswipe parroted.

"_Optimus Prime_?" Sunstreaker exclaimed incredulously. They knew of the Prime from their social structure downloads; what they remembered of him from their first orn online was very little.

"Yes, him. He and his people are part of the very special group of guests coming here," Blindside informed dutifully. His faceplate clouded over as he contemplated the last of the most prominent reasons of interest. "While a lot of bots are content with just that, another reason that others have a vested interest in your one vorn is because they are curious whether or not you two will stay here from now on or be put into a Youth Sector."

The sparklings stiffened instantly.

"What do you mean? Why wouldn't we stay here?" Sunstreaker dared to ask.

"Well, you see... there are certain rules and regulations surrounding sparkling and youngling care, and sometimes when the Creators don't measure up, the sparklings are..." Blindside paused, gathering himself before he had to say the words. "If we don't measure up, you two will be sent away."

"You're sending us away?" Sunstreaker squeaked fretfully.

"We'd never do it on purpose, I swear," Blindside exclaimed.

"Not a bot in this troop would ever send you two away," Flip interjected, quick to quell their fears.

"Flashdance might!" Sideswipe crowed.

"Flash is a half-bit," Wildride assured.

"But-!" Sideswipe geared up for a good objection, only to be quelled by Flip.

"Hush, small one. Not a bot here would send you away, but the choice does not reside with us. Not even with your Creators." The door to his apartments slid open with an ominous hiss, allowing Wildride and Blindside entrance before following them in. The director's apartments were very different from the rest of the dormitories; they were shadowed rooms, enigmatic like Flip himself, with dim lights, unexplainably lingering sweet smells, and strange trinkets that clicked and twittered lining the dark walls. It was rare for anyone to find themselves in the director's quarters, and disturbing to be in there when you were. The five of them came to settle in the greeting room, the three mechs on the assorted chairs while the twins were deposited on the low table.

"What do you mean the choice isn't always yours?" Sunstreaker queried warily, crawling to the edge of the tabletop. "We're yours, aren't we? The troop takes care of us, so who else would decide?"

"It's all part of the rules of having a sparkling," Flip began. His old faceplate looked a little more worn than usual. "When a bot, or bots, choose to have a sparkling in their own care instead of placing them in the care a Youth Sector, there is a grace period of one vorn to try the arrangement out. At the end of the vorn, designated bots from the Sector, along with the Head Medic and Guide from the initial sparking, come to assess the condition of the sparklings."

"But that's what Ratchet does _every_ time he visits!" Sideswipe countered.

"This time will be a little more in depth," Flip reasoned calmly. "If they find you are in good hands, they will simply ask if everyone in the party, sparklings included, is satisfied with the arrangement. Most sparklings usually choose to go to the Youth Sectors after the grace period; there are a lot of opportunities offered there that cannot be found out here."

"We don't want to leave," Sunstreaker stated firmly, crossing his arms and plopping down firmly on his aft.

"You can't make us," Sideswipe added adamantly, copying his brother's actions.

"_Unfortunately_, the choice isn't always in ours," Flip reminded firmly. "The Prime and Council take sparkling welfare _very_ seriously and if even one bot in the delegation thinks that the sparklings in question are being underprovided for in any sense, be it socially, educationally, functionally, whatever bracket they may chose to look at, they can opt to have you removed immediately and placed in a Youth Sector."

In light of this information, the twins looked truly stricken. Wildride growled darkly. Blindside bowed his head, subdued but unsurprised.

"They- they can't do that!" Sideswipe protested. He was on his feet immediately, but ended up stumbling to the side when a cold lash of fear shot through his spark. Instead of running to his Creators, he fell to his brother's side, curling into him.

Sunstreaker was rigid, outraged, terrified. "They can't just take us away like that! That's cruel!"

Blindside crawled onto his knees, levelling his faceplate with the tabletop. "Unfortunately, they can," he sighed. "We've done our best raising you two, this whole troop has, but there's always a chance. The Council takes things very seriously, and we've already had so many accidents with you... It's a wonder you haven't been taken away already. You just never know how these things will go-." He took a deep, shuddering drag of air through his vents, his gaze dropping to the floor.

Feeling Blindside's inability to continue without breaking down, Wildride slid to the floor to carry on. "In the eventuality that you two are taken away, we just want you to know how much we love you. We love you very, very, _very_ much. More than you'll ever know. It has been the most wonderful time having you here with us in this troop. Everyone is so very happy that you came along, both of you, and…" He had to pause in his own speech as his vocal processor wavered. He reached out a trembling hand, which the sparklings latched on to, burying their faceplates into the metal. That seemed to give him enough strength. "If you do end up in a Sector, we'll come visit as often as we can. If you're in Centaurie Tetrax, we'll visit every orn. And you'll always be welcome to rejoin the troop when you reformat from younglings to your first frame. You can always come back-."

But even as Wildride made his promises, the twins were already making promises of their own, their high-pitched voices tangling together as they clamoured to be heard.

"-I'll be as bad as I possibly can be so they won't want me there-!"

"-I'll sneak away every orn-!"

"-catch glitchmice and release them in the Sector-!"

"-switch everyone's cleaning wash with paint stripper-!"

"-poison the energon!"

"We'll make them hate us so much they'll have send us back here!" Sunstreaker declared, banging his pincers on the table.

"They'll be throwing us out the door in a few orns!" Sideswipe howled.

"Oh, you two…" Blindside trailed off, unable to find the proper words for what he was feeling. He wanted to admonish them for thinking such things, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Part of him wished those pranks would work, just so he could keep his little Creations.

Sideswipe drew a rattling drag of air through his intakes. "We don't _want_ to leave."

Sunstreaker wavered, hugging himself. "_We love you_."

That was enough for Blindside, who first twittered quietly, and then broke down into creaking sobs. "We love you, too," he managed to murmur as he drew the pair close. "We love you so much!"

Wildride slung an arm around his mate, drawing him into a one-armed hug, and used his free arm to drag the twins across the tabletop to him. "Primus only knows how much you mean to us. We'll always love you."

Flip looked away politely, watching the shadows instead. A light tapping came at the director's door and he rose with some effort to answer, finding Blaze there with a slightly anxious expression on his faceplate.

"They're here," he murmured quietly, optics sliding passed Flip to peer at the small huddled group in the middle of the room. "Do you want me to stall? I can hold them up for a few breems, at least."

"No, there's no need to resort to anything like that. Bring them into the common room and tell them we'll be there shortly."

"Yes, right away." Bowing, the pyrotechnic director slipped away to perform his task.

Wildride was already straightening as Flip turned around. "No need to tell us, we heard," the mech informed, his faceplate hardening as he grasped his sparkmate and eased him up. They each took a sparkling in hand, shuffling to the door.

"Try to be on your best behaviour," Flip advised wisely, to both Creators and Creations. "A good impression will do wonders."

"I don't feel like smiling anymore," Sideswipe sighed.

"I hate the stupid Prime," Sunstreaker sulked miserably.

"You and every other bot in this building," Wildride sighed.


	10. Chapter 6: Part II

I promised myself over and over that I would wait to post this chapter, that I would write _Serendipity_ _Kiss_'s chapter first, but this one was just sitting there so nicely, staring up at me with great big puppy dog eyes. Sadly, this is a little bit of a boring chapter; I know interest in the story is starting to wane, but I swear things are going to get interesting very soon. I'm terrible when it comes to stretching thing out, and I'm a wretch with taking up space with absolutely mundane detail, but there are great things ahead for this fic. Readers of other WE pieces kind of already know what's to come, and it's looming on the horizon. I really, truly hope you all enjoy this chapter. Please, read and review to your heart's content.

***On a special note, I've noticed in a lot of your reviews that you all have your hate-pants on for poor Flashdance. I'm really starting to feel sorry for the poor guy. I mean, look at it from his point of view; he's the youngest of the troop, not even fifty vorns old yet, and has only reformatted into an adult frame in the last few vorns, fresh out of his apprenticeship. He had the attention and love of the entire circuit, and then the twins come along and everyone acts like the sun shines out their every orifice while Flash is left behind. He's just being the jealous older brother, but he does love the twins as much as the rest of the troop.

***On an intensely awesome note, **FunkyFish1991** did the most extraordinary piece of fanart for this fic and the link is posted in my bio. I encourage everyone to go take a peek! It will blow your mind when you see it! As well, I want to issue my most heartfelt apologies to dear FunkyFish for not saying anything in the last chapter. Your artwork is a masterpiece tenfold and deserves praise to the tenth degree.

**Elita One**- They're young, they'll hate anything until something shiny distracts them. ^^;

**DitzyMusicLover**- My dear, keep in mind they're young- kids will dislike anyone until something distracts them. The war is still a vague and unheard of monster looming unspoken on the horizon.

**FunkyFish1991**- I hope you stick with the story to find out what happens! There's so much more story to tell~

**Bluebird Soaring**- Don't you hate it when the day you're all excited for turned into a crappy one? =( Poor Sides, indeed. But everything will turn out as its supposed.^_^

**Shimmershadow30**- Thanks for the love, my dear.^^ I do hope you enjoy this chapter.

**Balrog Roike**- Um, my dear, you must be taking from somewhere else with some of those assumptions, because no one here wants to kill the Council and become a Decepticon. In fact, the Decepticons will not be created for a very, very long time. Anyways, your questions regarding Starscream are a little misplaced here- you would have done better asking them in the fic that at least features him as a character. Most of the questions you're asking were answered in the main body fic of WE, _As We Come Together_, chapter 8. As for Unicron hating him- he just didn't want him there; Megatron was the one Unicron was calling. And Flash- just think of him as the spurned and jealous elder brother.

**Shizuka Taiyou**- The story will be told as it's supposed to be told.^^ Thank you so much for commenting.

**Silveriss**- We'll see where the story goes from here.^^

**Bunnylass**- Gah! You. Are. The. Best! You must be getting tired of me ranting on in these replied about how much I adore you and your reviews, but you are the most wonderful woman on the face of the planet. Every time I read one of your reviews, I'm blown away by how perceptive of the story you are. You must be some kind of super sleuth or something, because you're a genius when it comes to picking up on the puzzle pieces! And your enthusiasm for the details is beyond fantastic. You must be an angel, 'cause I swear you're straight from heaven~ xD

**Much love and cyber-hugs to you all! :)**

**Surface of the Sun  
****Chapter 4: Part II**

'_I hope they get here soon,'_ Megatron transmitted on a private channel, glaring pointedly at his brother.

'_They'll be here in their own time.'_ Optimus replied patiently.

'_The others won't stop __**staring**__ at us, though.' _

Staring was an understatement. It seemed as if the entire Centaurie Tetrax troop had gathered in the common room to do nothing but stand nearest the door and glare at their small group of guests. Hostility was practically radiating off them. It would have been unnerving, if only they weren't painted to look like rainbows.

'_They're only concerned for their sparklings,' _Optimus soothed, perfectly aware of how much they must feel like intruders to the troop. Next to him, Ironhide tapped his fingers impatiently along the arm of the chair he was seated in, rumbling softly at several stuntmechs who hadn't stopped glaring at him since he'd sat down. One of the stuntmechs, a blindingly-painted neon blue and green mech, was crouched as if he meant to attack.

Copperfield and Mend Me appeared to be having less trouble with the unfriendly atmosphere. They had been to enough one vorn visits to remain unbothered by the hostility some bots might harbour; performing the same function for eons helped prepare them for almost every eventuality. Ignoring the heavy atmosphere, they simply conversed in quiet tones, seated comfortably in the deep seats farthest from the doors.

Those having the easiest time of it were the three bots sent from the Sector; their medic, engineer, and, of course, the accompanying Guardian. Since they were regular visitors to the coliseum, and on relatively good terms with much of its inhabitants, they were spared only lacklustre glares. For the most part, even the lacklustre glares were sad, translated best as piteous silent begging to spare the sparklings. Ignoring the pleading looks before their sparks broke, the Sector mechs conversed in low voices, though the silence was so great that even their whispers carried.

"So you say you'll be reformatting soon?" Ratchet enquired curiously to the speckled green Guardian he stood with.

"Oh yeah, I finally found a backer on Monoluna who's willing to support my extended anthropological studies," the Guardian replied happily. "He's even willing to donate the ship I'll need and pay for a new frame. That's more than I ever could have hoped for."

"Sounds like a very generous mech," Ratchet reasoned. "Anyone we've heard of?"

"I'm sure you've heard of him; you'd have to be living in a hole not to have. He's been interviewed on Soundwave's informational channels before."

Wheeljack rolled his optics. "Blaster's channels are more my taste."

The Guardian nodded. "Yeah, I like Blaster's programming more, I just meant, well- he's really quite a well-known mech, that's all. His designation's Mirage."

The engineer's and medic's optic ridges shot up.

"Whoa- Lord Mirage, Council Representative of the Planetary Treasury, Head of the Luna Society, _that_ Mirage?" Wheeljack exclaimed.

The Guardian looked quite flustered. "Yeah, that'd be the one."

"He practically owns half of Monoluna!" Wheeljack laughed.

"I heard something like that," the Guardian shrugged, scuffing the floor. Wheeljack gushed proudly, clapping his hands over the Guardian's, praising him until Ratchet was able to pry the engineer off.

"You're lucky to have caught the interest of such an influential mech," the medic commented, patting the speckled mech on the shoulder with one hand while he kept Wheeljack at bay with the other. "I could understand the supply of a ship and new frame if you had found a research group to back you, but seeing as this is an individual endeavour, you should certainly count yourself lucky. Lord Mirage is one of those reclusive mechs you don't hear from very often. This is a once in a life time chance."

"Don't I know it," he replied breathlessly. "As soon as my contract with the Sector is up, I'm taking full advantage of the offer; first thing I'm doing is getting out of this frame!"

"Eager much?" Wheeljack needled.

The Guardian nodded. "I love my function here, don't get me wrong, but the size requirements I could live without. Minibots and under may be a requirement for Sectors, but it's too short for me. I need something a little taller, with a little more power. I feel so _compacted_ in this frame."

Wheeljack laughed, swinging his legs idly from the table he perched on. "Yer telling me. Can't wait ta move on ta bigger and better things beyond the Sector; open my own lab or something- _anything_ ta get me out of this femme frame! The model's nice an' all; Wrenchwire did a good job on its construction, but the lack of height bothers me. Gotta run double time ta keep up with anyone, unless they want me riding on their shoulder."

"You've only been in that frame for a vorn or two," Ratchet accused, eyeing his old friend caustically. "You _chose_ to reformat out of your minibot frame into that one. You were doing just fine with your last frame."

"I wanted a change, is all. Change is what our species is all about, isn't it?" Wheeljack shrugged exaggeratedly, looking completely unconcerned. "Now I want ta be back in my original frame- good old mech-sized me. No more microbot, no more femme, and no more minibot. Is that so wrong?"

"It is way too much stress on your spark to be flouncing around from frame to frame," the medic chastised. He knew Wheeljack was only emulating his old mentor, who had changed his frame like some bots go through paintjobs, but all the jumping around got tiresome._ "Plus, _think of the stress you're putting on the mech that has to do the reformatting, namely _me_. I'm getting damn tired of having to juggle your spark this way and that."

"That's his roundabout way of saying he loves me," Wheeljack mock-whispered to the Guardian, then, returned to his normal voice (which was adjusted from the normal femme default to resonate in the lower vocal range of a mech). "When you reformat, ya taking a new designation, too?"

"Sure," the speckled mech shrugged. "I don't think I can stand being called Dream Chaser for much longer. It was cute when I first got into the frame, but now it's getting annoying."

"Do ya have a designation in mind right now?" the engineer enquired.

"Don't know… _Hound_ maybe, in honour of all the mechs who've hounded me over never getting to function as an explorer," Dream Chaser said with a lopsided grin. "I'll get into the anthropological core, yet!"

"Well, there are worse reasons ta name yerself," Wheeljack shrugged.

A minor commotion in the entryway caught the Sector bots' attentions, looking up in time to watch five new bots enter, all of which they recognized. Flip came into sight first, ordering the rest of the troop out with quiet, sharp words. Blindside and Wildride solemnly stepped in behind their director, in each of their hands sat a curled sparkling.

Optimus was instantly on his feet to greet the bots, the rest of the delegation following closely. Flip met the Prime's gaze evenly, and then bowed, his two fellow mechs copying. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, however, glared and hissed.

After returning a courteous bow, Optimus cast the twins an amused glance. "Temperamental today, are they not?"

"They just don't like the idea of being taken away," Wildride retorted, unchecked.

Ironhide huffed, crossing his thick arms over his massive torso in an act of pure disapproval. Wildride clearly looked like he was about to take on a mech twice his own mass, but Blindside intervened, treading heavily on his mate's foot. Satisfied that the stuntmech remembered his station now, and more specifically remembered who he was talking to, Ironhide smirked.

Optimus, for the most part, took no offense to Wildride, pretending not to notice the short exchange. "I wouldn't imagine anyone would enjoy the idea, would they?"

"No, sir. It's doubtful anyone would appreciate the idea of being taken away," Blindside said humbly.

Prime regarded the short star-spangled mech with a measuring gaze. "Stunt troops form unusually strong bonds with each other, don't they?"

Flip made a small noise, intercepting the question before Blindside could speak. "I can't speak for all troops, Prime, but I know this one is close and we are all reluctant to entertain the idea of letting go of any of our own. I would hope that that is kept in mind during today's proceedings."

"I assure you, all of that will be taken into consideration when deciding what is best for the sparklings," Optimus replied. He gestured to himself, Megatron, and Ironhide. "Seeing as we probably all know each other from one venue or another, I believe it would be more pertinent to skip further introductions to get these evaluations underway. We are only here out of curiosity to see the twins; we'll let the bots with actual purpose for being here perform their functions."

Copperfield and Mend Me took their cue, stepping up and bowing formally, returned quickly by the stuntmechs.

"I am happy to see that everyone appears to be operating at optimal capacity," Copperfield commented warmly as she consulted her tiny data pad. "I believe it would be best to undergo the sparkling interviews and evaluations first before the Creator interviews and environment inspections, seeing as they are a little fitful at the moment-."

"Excellent!" Wheeljack chimed, grinning happily. "You can interview one sparkling while Ratch' an' I perform the frame and file overview on the other. Seeing as little Streaker's closest, we'll take him." The sparkling was handed down to the femme, despite protestations from said sparkling. Sideswipe growled as he was placed in Mend Me's palm.

"Will our presence be needed?" Blindside asked anxiously.

"Not necessarily," Copperfield informed. "But, I'm sure you will be a comfort to your sparklings."

"Don't leave!" Sideswipe howled, flailing his arms. "Don't leave us here alone!" Sunstreaker sent up a mirror wail to better get the message across: their Creators were NOT to leave.

Wildride tugged his mate to the couches and sat firmly. "We'll stay, then."

Dream Chaser smiled understandingly and plopped himself down next to the sparkmates, slinging a friendly arm around the far-too-anxious Blindside. "Cheer up. It'll all be over before to you know it."

Wildride growled, peeling the Guardian's arm off his mate and dragging Blindside to him. "How is that any comfort to us?"

* * *

Sunstreaker sat miserably on the tabletop with Wheeljack crouched next to him, the engineer's usual cheerful grin firmly in place. As often as Ratchet had come to do check-ups on the twins, Wheeljack was just as frequent a visitor. Though the twins would never say it, they looked forward to Wheeljack's visits a lot more than Ratchet's. The medic could be downright scary when he wanted to be, but Wheeljack was almost as fun as any of the stuntmechs- and he blew himself up a lot too, which was funny.

"Not yer orn, huh?" the engineer asked teasingly as he expertly examined each of Sunstreaker's limbs while the sparkling remained unmoving, just as he had been taught to do when being inspected.

"No," he huffed grumpily.

"Don't worry, it'll all be over soon and then Dream Chaser will go take you an' Sideswipe out ta play. I even brought Tungsten with me so ya play with it," Wheeljack told him amiably, his long digits delving into a crevice in Sunstreaker's plating, feeling around the wires that lay beneath to judge their condition and conductivity.

Sunstreaker brightened marginally. He was a fan of the microbot-sized drone that the engineer trooped everywhere with him. Drones were usually so large, even the ones around the coliseum were the size of mechs, meaning they were no fun to play with. Having something sparkling-sized was always a treat.

"Where is it?" he asked curiously.

"Ratch' got it in subspace right now," Wheeljack replied, nodding briefly to the medic who hovered nearby, scanning Sunstreaker carefully while Wheeljack did his evaluations. Suddenly, the femme paused, faceplate furrowing. "Hey now, we got a foreign substance under the plating- right arm, under the foreplating, near the wrist joint."

Instantly, Ratchet was there, plucking Sunstreaker up to be optic-level with him. Sunstreaker sagged even more under the medic's sharp gaze, pouting as he felt the ethereal tickle of deep scans being run over his person.

"I haven't touched any foreign substances," the sparkling grouched.

"Arm out, little one," the medic ordered as his free hand transformed, fingers suddenly unfolding into long, spindly instruments meant to deal with tiny creatures such as sparklings. Obediently, the sparkling's arm went out, subject to the gentle torture Ratchet put him through as his long, pointy digits weaved under the plating of his right arm to biopsy the substance underneath.

Blindside was there in moments, his star-spangled head peering into the fray. "Is everything alright?" he demanded fretfully.

"We found somethin' under his plating," Wheeljack informed. "Ratch' is just checking him out."

A laugh suddenly drifted from the soft-blue medic. "It's paint," he announced. "Blue paint."

"Paint?" Blindside squeaked.

Sunstreaker grumbled unintelligibly, kicking at Ratchet's palm. "I was helping Flashdance touch up his paintjob a couple of orns ago. I was small enough to paint the places he couldn't reach."

"Some paint must have slipped under," Ratchet reasoned.

"We'll have ta clean ya out so the paint doesn't erode yer circuits," Wheeljack said, pulling out some diluted cleaning solution from subspace to begin the minor task. "Fer future reference, make sure ya get ta the wash racks right after ya do paintin' of any sort. Big mechs like Flashdance got thicker plating, with backups and redundancy circuits in case something gets damaged- yer just a little thing; paint can do ya a lot more damage ta ya. It'd be a real nasty thing if Ratchet had ta rewire yer entire frame- ya'd never hear the end of it."

"Or maybe you could just give me a _new_ frame. I hate this one," Sunstreaker pouted, watching as his plain brown plating was stripped off, the wires below cleansed, and then plating replaced moments later.

"Sorry to disappoint you, but there are laws prohibiting that," Ratchet informed him while Blindside flinched, looking quite subdued. Both he and his sparkmate knew that Sunstreaker had a lot of problems with his frame and even more problems _because_ of his frame. Even if no one had called him ugly in a long time, Sunstreaker still hadn't forgotten the word from the first orn he'd been online.

"What laws?" the sparkling demanded obstinately.

"Laws that say you are too young to be making any decisions regarding the modification or reformation of your frame, which means no repaints, no mods, and no new frames until you are considered prepared and mature enough to graduate to adult status."

"Those are stupid rules."

The medic rolled his optics, patting the sulking sparkling on the head. "They've served well in the past." His gaze strayed to the hovering Blindside. "You can sit down now, the crisis has been averted."

"Oh- right… going." Blindside was welcomed back to the couch by his mate and Dream Chaser, both holding out their arms to offer a hug of comfort.

Wheeljack chuckled amusedly as he sat back, finally done with Sunstreaker's evaluation. "Paintin', huh?" he asked.

"Yeah," the sparkling replied, somewhat defensively.

Wheeljack chuckled, looking thoroughly interested. "Do it often?"

"Whenever I can..."

"How long have you been painting?"

Sunstreaker shrugged. "Don't know... awhile, I guess."

Wheeljack smiled. "Do ya like paintin'?"

"Sure. And I think I'm getting good at it, too," Sunstreaker replied, emboldened to speak a little more by the engineer's interest.

"Really?"

"Uh-huh. The others let me help touch up their paintjobs whenever they get a scratch, or I'm allowed to help polish if they're about to perform a really big show." Since looks were a key in a function in presentation, the stuntmechs' paintjobs were considered high-priority. The fact that they even allowed Sunstreaker anywhere _near_ them with a paintbrush or polishing cloth was something extraordinary on its own.

"How about your brother? Does he enjoy painting, too?"

"Sideswipe really isn't as good as I am with the application," Sunstreaker confided as Wheeljack went about his business and Ratchet continued his scans. "He fumbles with the paint, and has trouble with colour coordination, mixing, contrasting, layering… Actually, he has a lot of trouble with everything that has to do with painting."

"That's too bad, but I guess not everyone's spark can be in a paintbrush," Wheeljack chuckled.

Sunstreaker nodded. "Nobody will even let him near the supplies anymore ever since he had a tantrum and added black dyes to all of the paint." It had been the Flashdance incident all over again.

Ratchet snorted, frowning. "I'd expect nothing less from that little imp."

"Little scamp," Wheeljack chuckled good-naturedly. They had had their fair share of pranks and spills with Sideswipe. The bot seemed destined for mischief of the highest order.

Sunstreaker continued to look pensive. "It's weird, though. If he and I come from the same spark, why are we so different? Why am I so good at painting and he's not?"

"Connected as you are, little one, you and Sideswipe are still your own mechs," Ratchet reminded softly.

"But we're from the same spark," Sunstreaker insisted, harkening back to the times when he and his brother had once thought they were the _same_.

"No matter your origins, you are capable of making your own decisions and of developing strengths in different areas. There may be very little we know about how you two came about, but I do know for a fact that you have your own sparks to follow," Ratchet said calmly as he flipped open the sparkling's chest panel to inspect the status of the sparkcase and spark residing within. "Think of it like sparkmates- they are connected, and yet have wildly differing strengths and interests."

"You got a point, and I really do like to paint..." Sunstreaker murmured, scooting around when Ratchet indicated he needed to turn around to access the interfacial port on his back.

"And that's okay, even if Sideswipe doesn't like it," the medic assured. "Do you think you would be interested in operating with that as your main function some orn?" It was still very early for any sparkling to decide what they wanted their function to be, but home-cared sparklings always seemed to figure it out earlier than Sector-raised ones, although their chosen functions tended center closely to the functions of the bots who raised them.

Sunstreaker paused for a long while, his gaze dropping to his own ugly, brown pincer-hands. "I don't know… maybe. Painting's nice, after all... It would be nice not to be brown anymore," he said, sighing. "I don't like brown. It's ugly." He flinched when he used the word. Then his gaze strayed to his brother, in the middle of being interviewed by Copperfield. Sensing Sunstreaker's gaze, Sideswipe peered over at him and waved merrily.

Ratchet disengaged his own interface cable from the panel just below his neck column, the "plug" to it suddenly elongating into a long, narrow point so as to be fine enough to fit into the small port of a bot Sunstreaker's size. "Perhaps while I'm assessing your files, I could upgrade your status from sparkling to youngling. That would enable you to start streamlining your downloads to focus more on the functions of a painter. The sooner you have that done, the sooner you can reformat out of that frame and take up an apprenticeship under a real painter."

The excitement that suddenly dawned on Sunstreaker's faceplate was priceless. Sideswipe was hit by the backlash of it, making him laugh for no reason.

Wheeljack tipped his head curiously. "Don't ya think he's a little young ta be upgrading his status?" he asked. "I mean, give him at least another couple vorns ta think over what he wants ta function as."

Sunstreaker, on the other hand, was far more for the idea. "That would be awesome!" he cheered, then paused, thinking of where that would leave Sideswipe. His twin was like every other sparkling, wavering between what he wanted to be every few orns. One morning, he'd want to be an aerial like Skyfly, by mid-orn he'd want to part of the pyrotechnic team with Blaze, and by evening he'd be whining to be a regular stuntmech like his Creators. He wouldn't come to a real decision about what he wanted to be for another couple of vorns, meaning Sunstreaker would leave him in the dust. The thought subdued Sunstreaker immensely. "On second thought… I'll wait a little longer."

"Are you sure?" Ratchet pressed, optic ridge raised.

"Uh-huh, I'll wait."

* * *

Sideswipe shifted restlessly as his brother's previous excitement died down. It left tickles in his spark that made him giggle every so often, which made Mend Me and Copperfield look at him funny. He didn't mind the looks so much, but he was anxious to get the stupid interview over with_._ He didn't like one thing about it. He didn't even like Copperfield or Mend Me that much- they were nice, but in a really old and official sort of way. He liked it better when bots were loud and crazy.

Copperfield, ever a well of patience, waited kindly for Sideswipe to calm down. She read through the remaining list of questions she needed to adminster in the interview, continuously taking down notes about Primus only knew what. When Sideswipe was finally calm, he let her know it in the best way he knew how- by whining.

"Is this going to take much longer?" The face he pulled was one of the most exaggerated look of boredom that he appeared to be in pain.

Mend Me's large hand descended upon the little sparkling's head, patting him gently. "Not much longer, little one. We are simply trying to be thorough for your own sake."

Sideswipe crossed his arms in a huff. "I wish you weren't. I love it here with Sunstreaker and Blindside and Wildride and all the other stuntmechs. This entire troop is the best and I'm not leaving. You can't make me."

"It's not our intention to take you away arbitrarily," the medic assured. "We must find due cause first."

"If we may continue with this interview?" Copperfield interjected, sitting cross-legged before Sideswipe's sprawled form. She was actually quite a bit smaller than him, since he had been constructed to be along the larger scale models of sparkling/microbot frames while she had designed her frame to be along the smaller range. Her tiny optics peered over the next question to be asked- "In your opinion, what has been your level of contact with other bots of the same status as yours- meaning within the sparkling to youngling range?"

Sideswipe scrunched his faceplate, thinking. "Does Flashdance count? He acts like a youngling."

Copperfield immediately consulted her files regarding the troop, access's Flashdance's file. Almost instantly after, she was shaking her head. "No, I need an estimate of how often you interact with Cybertronians who are within the same developmental stage as you, _actual_ sparkings and younglings."

"I guess not that much, then," Sideswipe sighed. "We haven't really met a lot other sparklings or younglings. They all live in the Youth Sector, and Sunstreaker and I have never been there before."

"So you've never played with a bot within your range before?" Copperfield asked pointedly.

Sideswipe could feel the cream-painted microbot's critical gaze on him like a cold touch. He didn't like the way she asked that question, and he knew he couldn't lie for the answer. "We've played with a few when the troop goes on a circuit, but that's it really."

"I see…" she made a few notes, which instantly made Sideswipe even more nervous.

"Not that it bothers us any," he said quickly. "I mean, we get to play with all the stuntmechs here, and they're a lot more fun. We learned to somersault and tumble- Flashdance is teaching us some footwork, Thrillride gives us rides, and Flicker lost us once in his armour, and- and-."

"Thank you, Sideswipe, that's quite enough," Copperfield soothed, though never pausing in her note taking.

"Are you sure? I got more!" Sideswipe asserted, desperately eager to give the best impression of his circuit possible. A warm boost from his brother bolstered him further- an astral hug for strength.

Copperfield seemed lightly amused. "Would you be interested in further socializing with others within the same developmental range?"

"I guess so." He'd never really thought about it before... What was so good in a Youth Sector that he and his brother couldn't get in the circuit?

The femme pressed on efficiently. "What would you say your level of exposure to bots of various functions has been?"

Sideswipe had to ponder about that one. "Well... Flip's a director, Blaze does pyrotechnics, Wildride and Blindside do ground stunts..."

"No, no, little one, she means your exposure to other functions beyond the circuit," Mend Me kindly elaborated.

Sideswipe looked disheartened. "Not very high, I suppose." They were aware of different functions- some bots were programmers or painters, moderators or manufacturers, fabricators or distributers, but they had yet to personally meet many bots with those functions. Their lives were mostly restricted to the coliseum and what went on within the walls.

"Not very high?" Copperfield repeated. Mend Me's optic ridges rose in a way that made Sideswipe sickly nervous. This could possibly be the first time he hated being the center of attention.

"Me and Sunstreaker live here... we don't get out much," he said, choosing his words carefully.

"Alright." More notes were jotted down, Copperfield's fingers flying.

Sideswipe started to fiddle with his funny shoulder plate, wiggling it until it started to make the funny squeaking noise. Being anxious was not fun. "Is there much more?"

"No," the cream-coloured microbot replied, looking up. "We're almost done. Would you be interested in visiting the Youth Sectors on a regular basis in the event that this evaluation deigns it appropriate for you and your brother to stay in this environment? It will allow the both of you greater access to both playmates of similar ranges and exposure to a variety of bots with various functions when they come for scheduled informational sessions."

Sideswipe puzzled over the question, peeking over at his brother to see how he was fairing. Sunstreaker, as it turned out, was face down on the table as Ratchet accessed and evaluated his accumulated data. Not wanting to bother his bother while he was in that predicament- it was quite disturbing to all parties when they attempted to access each other their they bond and feel a third awareness in there floating around- Sideswipe shrugged and replied, "That'd be pretty neat, I guess."

"Wonderful," Copperfield exclaimed warmly, reaching up with her slim digits to pat his faceplate. "Thank you for your time and patience. You may have a break now."

"_Finally." _


	11. Chapter 6: Part III

Alright, seeing as this is the last chapter I have in reserve, this is what I'm going to end this story on for now. I figure posting the last part to this arc of the story is the least I could do before announcing that I'm going to be taking a hiatus from this fic for a while. That will probably come as a shock to most of you, and there are probably a few readers who have a lot of interest vested in the storyline, but there is a lot going on in life right now, and seeing as this is my least popular fic, I decided to drop this one so that I can focus more on the main branch fic _As We Come Together_, and hopefully still work on _Serendipity Kiss_ on the side. Those who have reviewed for this story, you have all been beyond wonderful and I thank you all from the bottom of my heart for the kindness you've all shown me through reviewing this fic of mine. I do hope you'll have patience with me as I sort out my other fics. I don't know when I will return to _Surface of the Sun_, but I will return someday if the story is still wanted.^^

**Shizuka Taiyou**- Perhaps this chapter will surprise you, and perhaps not. I do hope you enjoy.^^

**Shimmershadow30**- It's great that you're so vested in the writing- you're love for the twins really shines through in your reviews.

**Figs**- Sunny and Sides really do have their own unique personalities, even if some people tend to forget that. I've always seen Sideswipe as the more impish, immature type, while Sunstreaker was the tad more mature. Writing them as sparklings and showing their development step by step is a riot.

**Elita One**- They hiss, they growl, they scream, and they play pranks- everyone favourite nightmares. xD

**Balrog Rioke**- I know I already sent a PM apologizing for my shortness in my last review reply, but please do except another round of my groveling. Your reviews are always a pleasure to receive and read- your guesses and questions are particularly fun to find out. Thank you so much for reading and reviewing this fic.

**DitzyMusicLover**- Optimus and Megatron drinking tea! Lol! Now I have that image in my head! xD

**FunkyFish1991**- Ah, my dear, it's like that old saying goes, I must be cruel to be kind. What kind of storyteller would I be without making my readers squirm a little bit? There's no entertainment in that. xD You're welcome for the shout out- I felt simply awful forgetting in the first place.

**Silveriss**- Kids seem to have a gift for knowing when something is up, and the gift certainly seems to apply to sparklings as well.

**Bluebird Soaring**- Awwwww, if Sides kept his mouth shut more often, then he wouldn't be the Sideswipe we know and love, now would he? xD As we all know, Sunny does get out of that ugly little frame of his, but it'll be a while yet. His love for his brother outweighs his vanity [for now]. Tungy's a special little drone close to my heart, I couldn't help but give him a shout out! xD

**Enjoy! :)**

**Surface of the Sun  
****Chapter 4: Part III**

Thankfully, Sideswipe's overview with Ratchet and Wheeljack had not taken long, though the sparkling had somehow managed to tie a knot in the medic's interface cable, which caused a minor uproar from Ratchet as he attempted to untangle it and only managed to make it worse. Sideswipe had not made the situation any better by laughing hysterically, which only made Wheeljack laugh, which only served to anger Ratchet more. Dream Chaser intervened before Sideswipe could be psychologically scarred by witnessing an infamous Ratchet-tantrum, seperating the sparkling before he managed to taunt the medic into a meltdown.

Sunstreaker's interview with Copperfield and Mend Me was thankfully far less eventful.

Now it was their Creators' turns to be interviewed, and their home to be inspected. The twins were quickly ushered to the arena by Dream Chaser to play, hopefully keeping them out from under everyone else's feet. As promised, Wheeljack's hapless drone Tungsten was yanked out of subspace and toted along to play. Sadly, the distractions of play and mischief did little to keep them from lingering on what was happening to them.

"Have you ever been to other interviews, Dream Chaser?" Sideswipe queried as he crawled over the speckled mech's head.

"Not many, no," Dream Chaser replied, bobbing to make the little creature giggle. "Home-cared sparklings are not common at all; I've only been to two other interviews in my life."

"How long have you been a Guardian?"

"A long time," the mech shrugged.

Sideswipe twittered lightly. "How long is a long time?"

Dream Chaser hummed, smiling gently. "I have been a Guardian ever since I graduated to my first adult frame and got through my apprenticeship. I haven't left the Youth Sector at all."

"And you've only been to _two _interviews?" When Dream Chaser confirmed it with a nod, Sideswipe crawled to the crest that jutted from the top of the mech's faceplate, leaning around it to peer into the bright visor below. "What happened in the ones you went to?"

Dream Chaser paused, mulling briefly. He noticed that Sunstreaker had stopped painting polka dots on Tungsten and was now staring at him.

"I… well, you see, all of the bots in those interviews agreed that it would be best for the sparklings' wellbeing to be moved to a Youth Sector. A lot of resources are required to raise one, and it's really an inefficient waste to allocate so much time and effort to a single task when it takes away valuable time required to do a bot's actual function. It so much better for sparklings and younglings to be in a place designed for them so that they have access to the essential tools they need to be properly developed and socialized…" Dream Chaser sighed, shaking his head. "Sparklings who are home cared, like the two of you, are never as well-rounded or prepared as those who were brought up in a Sector."

"Would you want us to go to the Sector?" Sunstreaker asked, frowning.

The speckled green mech shrugged. "I'm a Guardian, dearspark, my main function is to guard the Youth Sector and protect everyone within. I would be going against my programming to say I thought it was best for you to stay here."

"So you want us separated from Wildride and Blindside and the circuit? This is our _home_. The troop is our _family_," the brown sparkling pressed miserably.

Dream Chaser spared him a pleading smile. "I'd never want to separate anyone from their family, but I do want you to have every advantage possible. Simply not having the proper resources here may be reason enough to decide to place you in a Sector's care."

Sunstreaker groaned, slashing an angry line of electric-blue across Tungsten's skinny chest. "So that pretty much means we're out of here no matter what."

"It means there's a strong possibility you two may end up in a Sector, but there's also the chance that this place will be deemed fit for your home care and you'll be allowed to stay," Dream Chaser reasoned, scooping up the tense sparkling to join his with his brother on his head. "There's always hope. Try to keep looking on the bright side."

In the quiet that settled after the Guardian's words, a light pattern of footsteps could be heard growing closer from the entrance hall leading into the arena. Dream Chaser scrambled to his feet, prepared to meet whoever was coming. The twins twittered angrily as they bumped along on the guardian's head. Optimus Prime's kind faceplate appeared around the partition into the arena, smiling as he spotted the Guardian on his feet, looking a little overwhelmed to see Optimus. He also spotted the sparklings chirping up a storm where they sat on the mech's head.

"Sorry to surprise you," the Prime apologized, striding into the area with a charismatic ease that seemed to be his Primus given gift. "We didn't mean to interrupt anything." Ironhide and Megatron followed in quick succession, their optics wandering briefly over the high levels of seats curving up around them, the stunt equipment scattered across the main floor. They maintained a loose formation around Optimus, vigilant in guarding their Prime despite the lack of danger in the coliseum.

"No, it's fine, sir," Dream Chaser assured, about to bow, but stopped when Optimus tapped his head, reminding him who was riding there. Plucking the twins off and setting them at his feet, the speckled mech jerked a bow, and repeated to the Prime Directorate Advisor and the Lord High Protector, both of whom returned the gesture. "I didn't have the chance to say this before, sir, but it's an honour that you're here today. Inspections like these are so routine, and certainly below the interest of someone such as yourself."

"Not at all, Dream Chaser was it?"

"Yes, sir, that's my designation."

"Ah, well, it was my pleasure to come this orn, Dream Chaser." Prime leaned down for the minibot, smiling warmly. "Admittedly, I'm actually big fan of the twins; they made a rather unforgettable impression on me in our first encounter." Seeing a spark split in two and fly all over the place was not something a mech forgot.

"I have no doubt of that, Prime," Dream Chaser laughed. Once someone met the twins, it was something they remembered for the rest of their life.

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe gathered close to Dream Chaser's feet, not listening to the conversation taking place above them, but not liking how close the Prime was getting to them. Sideswipe gasped when he realized Megatron was heading straight for Tungsten, the little drone bound to be crushed beneath the Lord Protector's heavy steps.

"Tungy, here bot!" Whistling for the creature, the drone jumped up and trotted over, surprising Megatron enough to make him jump back a step with a yelp, reeling to catch himself.

Ironhide barked a gruff laugh. "Getting a little jumpy, are we?" he teased, only to receive a shove.

"I didn't want to step on it, that's all," Megatron reasoned stubbornly, trying to regain some semblance of dignity. Ironhide was not to be fooled.

"Whatever you say, Megatron."

The Lord Protector snorted.

Optimus rolled his optics, crouching down to be almost on par with the sparklings. They backed up, ducking behind a stabilizer on Dream Chaser's foot and using Tungsten's skinny frame to shield them. Not much for cover, but at least they weren't completely exposed to the Prime's unnervingly deep optics.

"There's no need to be frightened," Optimus assured, his deep voice vibrating the air. Sideswipe poked his head out curiously, pulled a rude face, and then went back to hiding. Optimus's optic ridges rose in surprise; normally, sparklings and younglings were clambering over themselves to meet him.

Dream Chaser sighed, lifting his foot to expose the pair. "They're normally not this irritable; they're quite delightful when they want to be," he apologized, clearly flustered to be in such close proximity to the Prime and his associates. "Whenever Barricade escorts Ratchet and Wheeljack here, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker are perfect little avatars. They're just like this with me because they think they can get away with it."

"That's all part of the charm of sparklings," Optimus chuckled, stretching out his hand, palm up, in an invitation for the sparklings. Sideswipe pulled another face, his reluctance to approach the Prime apparently amusing Megatron and Ironhide, their muffled laughter drifting through the air. Sunstreaker was a little more discreet with his dislike, keeping well hidden behind Tungsten so none could see his stormy faceplate. Sideswipe felt his reluctance, however, and made sure to pull an extra nasty face at the Prime for his brother.

"Charming little creatures," Ironhide said with a roll of his optics.

"Optimus is probably just scaring them," Megatron intoned, laughing. "He has that effect on bots sometimes."

Optimus shot the pair a hard look before turning back to the twins in order to try and coax them out. "It's alright, don't listen to those two. I won't hurt you, little ones," he assured softly, keeping his hand flat and steady for them. "There's no need to be afraid."

"We're not afraid of you!" Sideswipe crowed.

"We don't like you!" Sunstreaker chimed in.

"Sideswipe! Sunstreaker!" Dream Chaser admonished, ducking down to capture them in his hand. "Use your manner subroutines! That was terribly, terribly rude!" The poor Guardian was more embarrassed now than he'd ever been in his life. "I'm so sorry about that. I didn't know they'd at out like this, especially in front of such esteemed guests. I- I'll have them apologize right away."

"Don't worry about it, Guardian," Ironhide rumbled, laughing.

"They _know_ better," Dream Chaser insisted. "You'll have to excuse them. I don't think they quite understand social hierarchy yet."

Ironhide waved him off dismissively. "It wouldn't be the first time Prime's been spoken to like that, and it certainly won't be the last. Don't punish the little things for being honest."

Megatron was just as entertained, grinning at his disappointed brother. "Optimus needs to be taken down a peg or two every once in a while to remind him he's still a mech. I think he was long overdue for a reality check."

Optimus's audio dials spun gently, whirring. He turned his head enough to fix his two cohorts with a flat look. "You two are too kind to me," he stated dryly.

"We try for your sake, dear brother," Megatron replied genially.

Knowing that if he continued, the needling was only going to get worse, Optimus returned to his task of attempting to coax the little twins onto his hand. That seemed to be his one goal for the orn. It was refreshing to come across a pair of bots so blatant with their opinions of him who were not Megatron and Ironhide; it was a rare thing to meet someone not tripping over themselves to impress the Prime. It was amusing to have to work for the twin's trust instead of automatically receiving it.

"I wonder why you two don't like me," He wondered softly. "We've only met once and I'm quite sure your recollections of the orn are sparse."

"It's because you're the _Prime_," Sunstreaker spat, saying the title with as much spite as he could muster.

"What's wrong with being the Prime?" Optimus pressed, ever patient. He didn't care how he looked, crouched close to the ground with his olfactory sensor practically touching the floor.

"You make the rules," Sideswipe pointed out matter-of-factly, little optics judging Optimus with a certain amount of disdain. "The rules aren't nice- they'll end up making me and Sunstreaker go to a Youth Sector."

"Those rules are there for your own wellbeing," Optimus replied. "And most of the rules regarding sparklings and Sectors were in place long before I became Prime. If you want to be angry with anyone, I suggest you look into your historical files and be angry another Prime, preferably one who came before me. They're the ones who first wrote up the rules and laws."

"We want to be angry with _you_," Sideswipe snorted. Dream Chaser made a disapproving noise, but the twins continued to be obstinate.

"Don't you think that's unfair to me?" Optimus asked. "My job is to enforce the rules and make sure everything is running smoothly on the planet. If Mend Me, Copperfield, Ratchet and Wheeljack decide that it is in your best interest to be moved to a Sector, I can't very well contradict it because that could very well put you two at risk, which is the last thing that anyone wants. All that's happening today is for your own good."

"Our own good…" Sunstreaker grumbled. He looked to Sideswipe, who tipped his head and pursed his mouthplates. They said nothing aloud, exchanging feelings through their bond instead. First was a sense of reluctance from Sunstreaker and indecision from Sideswipe. The red sparkling chirped, nodding to the Prime and letting Sunstreaker know he'd follow his twin with whatever he chose. The brown sparkling hunched, crossing his arms over his chest and thought hard about the decision- he didn't like the Prime, but at the same time he knew it wasn't the Prime's fault. They were being unfair to him. Sideswipe nudged his brother, offering comfort. With a sigh, Sunstreaker rolled his optics and came to his decision; they'd be friends with the Prime. For now, at least.

"_Fine," _Sunstreaker grumped aloud, clearly looking less than happy about his decision. He looked to Dream Chaser, who raised both optic ridges expectantly. With a disgusted snort, the sparkling reluctantly said, "We're sorry for being rude."

"Very sorry!" Sideswipe intoned.

"That's very big of you," Optimus said kindly, holding out his hand when Sideswipe indicated that he would like to climb in his palm now. Sunstreaker was dragged after him.

"You're a lot smaller than we thought you'd be," the red sparkling commented as he settled in the centre of the Prime's palm. "Flicker's bigger than you, and Jetfire is WAY bigger than you." Megatron, who stood a little taller than his brother, laughed. Ironhide did his best to look away to hide his amusement. Sparklings were always so fun to hold conversations with.

"Yes, well, I decided that this frame would be adequate enough to suit my needs as Prime," Optimus reasoned, a smile playing on his faceplate. "I didn't need to be any bigger or smaller."

Sunstreaker crawled forward to where the dull plating of the mech's hand met the vibrant armor of his arm. "Who does your paintjob?" he asked, tiny pincers tracing over the immaculate reds and blues that played together over the metal. Was that a mineral-chip additive he detected in the paint to give it that certain glitter? Oh, yes, it was! How very classy! And expensive!

Surprised by the sudden question, Optimus hesitated a moment too long, allowing Ironhide to cut in. "His sparkmate does it," he laughed. Instantly, Optimus shot the mech a reproving look, which did little to phase Ironhide. Sunstreaker appeared fascinated, his previous wariness gone.

"Really?" Sunstreaker searched his data banks for information on the Prime and his sparkmate. "I didn't know Elita One painted! It doesn't say anything about that in my files!"

Optimus made an embarrassed noise, shifting, while his two cohorts grinned.

"That's because it's just a private hobby of hers," Megatron informed. "Optimus here has such a soft spot for her that he lets her use him as a canvas."

"Isn't that kind of him," Dream Chaser commented, smiling broadly.

Megatron nodded, his fanged smile glinting under the lights of the arena. "He's too kind sometimes, almost as if he can't say no to her."

Scrambling to keep some of his dignity, Optimus straightened and fixed his brother with a sharp look. "And who exactly touches up your paintjob?" His gaze shifted to Ironhide. "Or yours, for that matter."

"Elita One!" the twins sang in unison, catching on to the game.

Both mechs had the decency to look embarrassed.

"Alright, alright, enough about our paint," Ironhide groused, snatching the sparklings up into his thick palm. "How about you two show us around this arena of yours? I'm sure there's time to give us a tour, isn't there?"

Easily distracted, the pair lit up like lights. "Yeah!" they coursed.

Megatron swooped in, plucking Sideswipe up between his claws. While the modified jagged dental plates inset in his faceplate offset his handsome features, the warmth of his smile was still there. "Where to first?" he asked.

"We have to stay on the ground," Sideswipe informed him seriously, crossing his arms. "We're not allowed up on the catwalk _ever._"

"We're fine with staying on the ground," Optimus acquiesced kindly. He, like many other Cybertronians at the time, had been watching the infamous presentation one vorn ago that had garnered such an order to stay grounded. "None of us, save my dear brother here, can fly, so the ground suits us just fine."

Sideswipe eyed Megatron with a new found admiration. "You can fly?"

"My alt mode is a jet," the mech confirmed, basking in the awe suddenly inspired in the young sparkling's optics.

"I want to be a jet," he breathed.

Sunstreaker rolled his optics, leaning towards Ironhide conspiratorially. "Yesterday he wanted to be a lightcycle."

"He certainly changes his mind a lot, then," Ironhide murmured back, quirking a wry smile. "I imagine he's a cheeky one."

"You're telling me," the brown sparkling sighed with a roll of his optics.

As the three mechs allowed themselves to be guided around, Dream Chaser trooped along behind vigilantly to ensure the sparklings' wellbeing while Tungsten wandered aimlessly after the small parade, leaving a small trail of paint in its wake.

By the time the interviews for Blindside and Wildride were over, the small group had found themselves guided into the backstage area and given an in-depth tour of every nook and cranny and pre-show ritual the Centaurie Tetrax group had to offer. Apparently, no secret was too sacred for the twins to keep when they were on a roll. While their Creators followed a minute trail of paint drips throughout the arena to find their arrant sparklings, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were busy divulging every lucky charm Flashdance had in his possession, the certain bots Flicker liked interface with before a show to help stay calm, Blaze and Thrillride's mysterious disappearances during half-time breaks, and other wonderful things that most older bots would have had enough sense to keep quite about.

Thankfully, Wildride caught the up to the group before his darling little monsters could divulge anymore precious information. He slid into the backstage area smoothly and scooped a chattering Sideswipe from the center of Optimus's palm. The little creature gave an objecting hiss, but acquiesced to being plopped on his Creator's shoulder. Blindside was a little more sentimental when gathering Sunstreaker, scooping up his sparkling and pressing him close to his spark before settling him lovingly on his shoulder.

"Is everything okay, Blindside?" Sunstreaker dared to ask, his pincer brushing against the warm metal of Blindside's faceplate.

"Everything's fine, little one," the mech assured, even as he reached out to take his sparkmate's hand, seeking a soothing touch from his mate.

Sideswipe stared down at the connected hands, and then up at his brother, their optics meeting in twin looks of abject horror. This could only mean one thing; they failed the interviews! They were going to be shipped off to a Youth Sector!

Optimus peered out from the backstage corridor into the arena, spotting the large gathering that had accumulated there. "I think we should make our way out, don't you think?" he offered, standing back to allow the stuntmechs through first.

A deep drag of air passed through Blindside's vents as he stepped out, Wildride right after him. Dream Chaser trotted out on their heels, with the Prime and his cohorts coming out last.

Sunstreaker sunk low into the armor he sat on, hoping the star motif below him would just swallow him whole. He didn't want to face this moment. Not with everyone gathered like they were- the entire troop standing in a close bundle, their faceplates grim and downcast. Blaze tried to send them a reassuring smile when their optics met, but his look ended up in more of a grimace.

Mend Me stood out in front with Copperfield balanced on his shoulder, her omnipresent data pad out as she tapped away on it. Ratchet stood jackknife straight next to the pair, staring down disapprovingly at his best friend as Wheeljack crouched close to the ground to murmur sweet nothings to his favored drone while trying to scratch off some of the dried paint.

Nobody looked too happy.

Sideswipe started to whine, curling into a tight ball and rocking. "I don't want to leave! I don't want to leave!"

Wildride took the bawling sparkling into hand and rocked him gently. "Shh, Sideswipe. It's okay." He tried to nuzzle the little creature, but the sparkling ending up turning around and latching on to his Creator's faceplate with a vengeance, screeching. Wildride tried to tug him off, but Sideswipe was latched on good. Sunstreaker couldn't help but start to whine as well, affected as he was from his brother. Blindside stroked him gently.

Copperfield finished with her data pad and stood up, though she was so short that even standing on Mend Me's shoulder, she didn't even meet the bottom of the mech's olfactory sensor. Her expression was monotone, revealing nothing.

"Sideswipe and Sunstreaker of the Centaurie Tetrax Performance and Exhibition Circuit," she began, her clear voice ringing slightly in the cavernous arena.

"I don't want to leave!" Sideswipe howled, clutching furiously to Wildride's mouthplates. "You can't make me! I'm not leaving!"

"It is the decision of the Official Spark Guide, Head Medic of the Honored Medic Guard, Head Medic of Centaurie Tetrax Youth Sector, and Head Engineer of Centaurie Tetrax Youth Sector that it would be in your best interests-,"

Sunstreaker tensed, gripping his Creator's forefinger tightly.

Sideswipe turned even more vocal. "I'M NOT LEAVING!!!"

"-to stay here, in the coliseum, with your family."

And just like that, Sideswipe's wails creased. He stared dumbly, as if he'd suddenly stopped understanding Cybertronian.

Sunstreaker was the first to say anything. "You're serious?"

The tiny microbot nodded firmly. "As serious as I can be," she replied. "We have reviewed your current environment and the bots responsible for your welfare and have come to the decision that it would be best for you to remain here, with your family. Your social and developmental needs are being met at an adequate level, the environment, thought not always 'safe' by Council standards, is sufficiently sheltered from outside influences, and, of course, we have taken into account that no party involved wishes for your removal. Seeing as all required standards have been met, albeit barely, you two may stay."

As the words left her mouthplates, there was no stopping the rest of the troop as they surged forward to overtake the two sparklings and their Creators. The twins found themselves snatched into a rainbow of celebrating hands, much like they had in the morning, but this time the jubilation seemed tenfold. They were tossed and hugged and loved so deeply they thought they would be lost in the clutches of their family before the insanity would end. Thankfully, a blue hand darted in and snatched them away just as Flashdance was preparing to give them a hug tight enough to incapacitate them. With a quick flick, they found themselves in Ratchet's clutches.

"Before you all get too rambunctious on the celebrations, there are a few conditions that will have to be met in order for Sideswipe and Sunstreaker to stay here," said the medic, staring down the crowded group of stuntmechs as they scrambled to untangle from each other.

Flip, who had refrained from getting mixed up with his bots, simply gazed on from the sidelines coolly. "Name the conditions."

"They're simple," Ratchet informed. "We believe it would be in their best interest to spend time at the Youth Sectors in order to be socialized with others in the same developmental stages as they are. I realize the mentality around here is often similar to that of the younglings, but it is still a far cry from the company of an actual one."

Ignoring the insult, Flip nodded wisely. "I'll see that they visit regularly. Are there any other that we should be aware of at this moment?"

"Try to keep a better optic on them. If you must, put a tracking system on them. Young ones like them are one of our planet's most precious life forms; for anything to happen to them would be a terrible shame."

"Yes, it would. Anything further?"

"Nah," Wheeljack chimed happily, shoving Ratchet away before the mech could ruin the moment. "We'll just send ya a message later. No need to put a downer on the happy moment."

Flip nodded gratefully, plucking the twins away from the medic. He offered them a warm smile, touching his forehead to each of theirs before glancing back at the assembled intruders to his coliseum. "Now, if you'll all excuse us, my troop and I have some celebrating to do."

Knowing a dismissal when they heard one, Mend Me and Copperfield bowed and turned to leave without further word, eager to return to their home in Iacon. Ratchet looked miffed, but Wheeljack laid a hand on his arm and jerked his head in the direction of the exit, Dream Chaser ushering both of them along; they left with Tungsten squirreling after them.

Megatron regarded the cheering troop with an amused look. "I think we should leave them to their party," he said, urging his brother on. "No need to intrude any longer than we have to."

Ironhide grunted. "It's best we return to Iacon as soon as possible."

"No, wait!"

The three mechs paused as a streak of red came darting along the ground towards them. As Sideswipe came up on their feet, Sunstreaker came along at a much slower pace. Their troop looked on with curiosity.

Optimus crouched, smiling to Sideswipe. "What is it, little one?"

"You can stay, if you want," he said, puffing up proudly as he made the offer.

Mildly amused, the Prime tipped his head. "Are you sure?"

"He's sure," Sunstreaker confirmed for his brother, coming to stand firm at his twin's side. "He- _we_ want you to stay."

Optimus glanced back to his cohorts, who shrugged. If the Prime wanted to stay, who were they to object? Chuckling, Optimus scooped the small pair into his hands. "I believe we can spare a few breems."


	12. Chapter 7

Hey everyone! Long time no see, right? Well, four months or so since the last update… Sadly, _Serendipity's Kiss_ isn't over yet, so the hiatus on this hasn't exactly lifted. This is like a last ditch summer fling thing for me. University starts tomorrow, and then it's back to the old bump and grind for me. -_- It is my sincerest hope that you, as my readers, will still like this story, even after so long away.

Special mentions to **FunkyFish1991**, who has certainly kept the faith for this story no matter how long I've stretched out this hiatus. She is one of my number one readers/reviewers and a great friend on devART with artistic talent to shadow even the sun. This chapter is dedicated to you! :)

**Shizuka Taiyou**- Well, here's a new chapter for you, my dear. Hopefully this will tide you over. :)

**Shimmershadow30**- I'd never separate the twins from their family, hun! That would be too cruel! It's a happy ending for them, this time. :)

**Elita One**- Yeah, they get to stay. It's a happy ending for them, this time.^^

**Figs**- lol~ That image of Optimus doing a disco dance is still making me laugh. xD This story is still on the back burner, but hopefully this one chapter will be enough to keep you reading. ^^

**Taisha**- Goodness, your praise has really touched my heart. The little details and nuances that I add to the story are what really endear to the writing, and I'm glad that you appreciate the effort just as much. You're too kind.

**That Crazy Halo Girl**- I hope I haven't tested your patience too greatly. Here's another chapter for you to enjoy, though who knows how long it will be until the next one comes… ^^;

**FunkyFish1991**- D'awwww, Fishy- you know I'm a cruel, cruel woman, but I'm not _that_ cruel! XD The true tragedy has yet to come…

**Balrog Rioke**- *shrug* It's a completely different planet with a completely different way of raising their young. A Youth Sector exists to raise and prepare a youngling with every available resource any young one could ever possibly need. It's unreasonable to think a single home, especially one like the coliseum, would be as well-equipped. But, of course, to each their own. In regards to your question about Tungsten- Wheeljack actually began building it when he was still a youngling himself, but stopped when he became an apprentice to Wrenchwire. Tungsten was completed as Wheeljack's drone when he completed his apprenticeship. :)

**Bluebird Soaring**- Yep, yep, happy endings all around, until the next time. There's no way I would just drop this story, no matter how many I have on the go. Somehow, someway, I'm going to finish this, because the twins' story is too important not to finish.

**DitzyMusicLover**- Thanks for all the advice. I've just been trucking away at this story behind the scenes as I've been writing furiously with everything else. One of these days, I'll be able to focus solely on this story. :)

**Starbee**- I'm so happy that you have enjoyed my version of the Twins! They have been so much fun to write for, and I'm thrilled that I have been able to entertain others with the story. :)

**Chloo**- lol~ Thanks for the props, hun. I'm still not over the phobia, but at least fictional not-really-babies babies don't scare the ever-lovin' tar out of me anymore.

**Rebell**- Hey, no worries about RL. I can relate with how much it has a habit of pulling people away from fiction. I'm so glad you've enjoyed the story thus far and plan to stick with it. There are a lot more joys and sorrows planned ahead for dear Sunny and Sides. It'll be a while yet before they become the gladiators of Kaon, but rest assured the fall from grace will happen.

**Destiny Quill**- My dear, your review certainly made my day when I received it, and even now as I read it again, it has a way of lifting my mood. My whole goal of writing this story was to delve deeper into the Twins' backstories and illustrate their transformation into the characters we know now. I know no higher praise than for a reader to say that I have defined their views of a certain character. I'm beyond humbled.

**Lecidre**- Awwwww, hun, your review just about put me right over the moon, you know that? Everything about it made me grin and laugh- I almost cried from the joy of seeing it! I'm so glad that you enjoyed the chapter. It was a joy to write, from Ironhide and Megatron picking on Optimus, to the Twins having their We-Hate-You moment, to Elita doing the paintjobs and everything else. There's so much in your review that I want to comment on, and yet there's only so much time and space here to leave a reply. I just want to say that you have been one of the best friends I've made on this site, and your reviews have really kept me going. You're amazing with your insight and praise, and I sincerely hope you enjoy this chapter!

**Cynthia**- Oh goodness, that's such high praise! I'm happy to have made the Twins your favourite Autobots through my writing! :D

**Niveas**- I'm happy that you've been able to enjoy my story so much! I'm flattered! :D

**Eeilair**- Goodness, making the Twins' family be the TF equivalent of a circus troupe simply felt right, y'know? I'm glad you like the touch, though. It's so much fun writing for them. :)

**Cosmic love, everyone~ **

**Surface of the Sun  
Chapter 7**

"You're leaving us _here_ for the orn?" Sunstreaker whined, staring up at the high, brightly painted walls of the Sector looming in front of him. As far as he was concerned, his Creators were leaving him at the gates of the pit.

"Yes, for the orn," Blindside informed, crouching to urge the stubborn sparkling along. "That's part of the agreement, remember? You get to stay with us in the circuit, but only if you're properly socialized with other beings within the same developmental range. That means regular trips to Centaurie Tetrax Youth Sector, or _else._"

"Can we say we came but we really didn't?" Sunstreaker whined.

"No."

"Then can we just spend a joor here and go home?" the mottle-brown sparkling groaned, digging his heels in.

"Nice try, but still no. You must spend the entire orn," Blindside insisted.

A little brown foot stomped, faceplate crumpled. "But that's too long!"

The star-spangled mech looked caught between humour and pity. As a home-cared sparkling himself, he knew what it was like to be left at the Sector for an orn to play. The first time doing anything was always a little scary for anyone. "It's not as bad as you think, little one. Wildride and I went through the same thing, and so did everyone else in the troop. You just play for the orn and then come home. Sideswipe will be there with you. Just give it a chance, please?"

Sunstreaker made a face so twisted it looked like he was going to pop a bolt.

Blindside placed a gentle finger over the tiny faceplate. "If you keep your faceplate like that, it'll stay that way." From behind the finger, Sunstreaker squeaked, remembering the orn Flicker had pulled a nasty face at another stuntmech, only to discover the joints in his faceplate seized that way. That was a fiasco no one was forgetting any time soon. When Blindside removed his finger, Sunstreaker had fixed his faceplate, though his pout remained.

Wildride crouched down next to his sparkmate, Sideswipe perched happily atop his head. "You want to stay with us at the coliseum, don't you?"

"Yeah!"

"Well, if we don't do as the Council says, you get taken away-."

"I know that!" Sunstreaker snapped. "I don't want to leave the circuit, but that doesn't mean I want to go in there!" He waved to the Sector's gates to clearly indicate where he didn't want to go. "I just don't want to go! Is that so hard to understand?"

Wildride cast a cursory glance to the tall gates set back from the pedestrian walkways; they were unchanged from when he had been a youngling spending orns at a time in the Sector with his friends. There was nothing particularly scary about them, other than the approximation of an organic alien monster a youngling had painted. The fireworks-motif mech turned his gaze back to his mottled brown sparkling. "You're stuck in the coliseum all orn with all us boring old stuntmechs who hardly have any time to do anything but train. You don't have many friends in your own size or developmental range. You don't really get to talk to or meet anyone new. You two are sheltered more than any other being on this planet. You should be jumping out of your plating for a chance like this. _I_ was practically climbing the walls to get in there when I was your age!"

"Well that was you, and you're nuts!" Sunstreaker shouted, stomping both his feet for good measure.

Wildride jerked back, chin jutting out. "Oh yeah?"

"_Yeah!" _

"Oh yeah?!"

"_**Yeah!!" **_

"Well, oh- dammit!"

"_I win!" _Sunstreaker shrieked in triumph.

Blindside sighed, patting his mate's foot. "Congratulations, love. You were just outmanoeuvred by a sparkling."

Wildride huffed, turning away.

"Hey! Hey! I'm still here! _I_ want to go in there!" Sideswipe shouted, kicking Wildride in the head to remind him he was still hiding up there. "I want to climb the walls and make friends." He looked to his brother with stubbornly pursed mouthplates. "Sunstreaker's just scared."

Horrified his own brother would betray him like that, Sunstreaker screeched. "I'm not scared! You're a liar!"

"Nuh-uh! You're scared! You're the liar!" Sideswipe yelled back, unable to shield himself from his brother's fear. "You're being a dumb glitch about it all! It's just a stupid Youth Sector!"

"I'm not a dumb glitch! You're a smelly rust bucket!"

Bystanders were starting to stare, though the twins gave no indication of caring. Wildride scrubbed his face, ducking when Blindside waved for Sideswipe to be brought to his level. Large hands took up the twins, folding them in a warm metal cocoon and forcing them to cease their squabble.

"Hush, you two, there's no need for silly fights." Sunstreaker was uncovered first, bringing him faceplate-to-faceplate with Blindside. "We know you're scared, little one, but that's no reason to take it out on your brother." Sideswipe was then uncovered. "And we know you're only reacting to what you feel from your brother, but you're not making it any better."

The twins looked to each other reluctantly, and then looked up to their Creator. _"We're sorry,"_ they mumbled reluctantly.

Blindside blew a jet of warm air over them to cheer them up. "That's alright, dear ones."

Sunstreaker rocked back and forth a little. "They're going to make fun of me if I go in there, though" he said miserably. "They're going to say how ugly my paint is and how old my frame is. Just you wait- they're all going to say mean things! They're all going to be glitches! And when you come back for me, I'm going to tell you I told you so, and you're going to feel so bad you'll never leave me here again!"

Wildride pinched the sharp ridge between his optics, trying to contain his building impatience. "Don't you think you're overreacting just a little?" he asked.

"No, you're _under-reacting_," the sparkling grumbled rottenly. "You don't get what it's like being in this frame. You and Blindside are so handsome! You were built to have handsome frames with beautiful paintjobs; everyone loves you and wants to see you perform! Even Sideswipe is pretty for a sparkling! But what about me, huh? I get left in the dust because our stupid sparks split and you didn't have a frame for me."

Blindside quickly traded Sideswipe off to Wildride in order to bring Sunstreaker close to his spark. "It's not the frame that matters, it's the spark. When you were created, you had one of the brightest sparks I have ever seen. You were called Sunstreaker because of how bright your spark was."

Sunstreaker leaned into the resonance of his Creator, lulled by the familiar warmth and pulse of his life energy. "Nobody can see my spark, though. They see my frame, that's it," he sighed.

"They see your spark through what you do," Blindside shushed. "You're special just the way you are."

"It's not fair that I have to show them at all. If I was as pretty on the outside as I am on the inside, everything would be easier." Little pincers dug into the slates between Blindside's plating, hugging himself to the spark he felt hiding beyond. "I want to stay with you 'cause you know I'm pretty inside out."

"Awwwww..." Blindside withered pathetically, cupping Sunstreaker as close as he dared. He was so small and quiet and vulnerable; he was way too young to be left at a Youth Sector. If he could just talk to the Council about reconsidering their decision...

Wildride felt his sparkmate wavering, likewise affected through their bond. Sideswipe might not have had such a connection to his star-spangled Creator, but he knew well enough what it looked like when Blindside was about to give in.

"I knew he was going to crack," Sideswipe mumbled.

"None of that outta you. I'll see to your brother," Wildride admonished good-humouredly, giving the little imp a light flick in the head. Without even having to say a word to his mate, he exchanged Sideswipe for Sunstreaker, rubbing his head fondly to Blindside's with the silent promise of taking care of things.

Sunstreaker moped obstinately as he was taken a few paces away. "It doesn't matter what you say, I'm not going to change my mind about the Sector. I'm going to hate it,"

Being far enough away from his mate, standing with his back to him so that Blindside would not even be privy to facial expressions, Wildride let his faceplate fall into a dark frown that revealed how far gone his patience was. "I'm not going to try to change your mind."

Sunstreaker's optics narrowed. "You're not?"

"No. I know a lost cause when I see one," the older mech informed. "In fact, I'm going to tell you something very different, so you better listen up." He leaned in close, whispering sharply.

Bored because he could not hear what Wildride was telling Sunstreaker, Sideswipe sighed and rubbed at his chest. "You know, they probably will make fun of him," he said offhandedly, looking up a Blindside.

Blindside nodded slowly, aware of the sad truth. They could sweet talk Sunstreaker all they wanted, but it wouldn't take back that one word said to him the orn he was brought home. _Ugly. _Bots weren't stupid, and they weren't blind either; Sunstreaker's model was centuries old, and while older bots had the sense to say nothing, it was unlikely all younglings within the Sector would. "You'll be there for him, right?"

"'Course I will, he's my brother." In Sideswipe's mind, that was simply a fact of life. He was there for his brother in the same sense that he knew his spark was going to pulse to the beat of his brother's. It was entirely instinctual and impossible to ignore.

"Then I have nothing to worry about."

Sideswipe considered the words carefully. "Well, you have lots to worry about, but you don't have to worry about Sunstreaker or me. We take care of each other."

"That you do, dearspark." He looked up when he felt a pleasant tug in his chest, only to find his mate approaching with an only slightly-scowling Sunstreaker. When Sideswipe hopped over to Wildride's frame to be with his brother, Sunstreaker merely huffed at him and crossed his arms tighter over his chassis.

"I think it'll be fun," Sideswipe insisted futilely.

"Fun for you, maybe," Sunstreaker grumbled.

"Give it a chance, for me?" Big blue optics turned pouty and adorable.

"Don't look at me like that, it looks like your optics are going to pop out of your head," Sunstreaker said flatly, but then relented when Sideswipe persisted. "I'll give it a chance. Just one. Only because you asked." Just for that, he was rewarded with a tight hug, which he returned after a moment of groaning.

"Now is everything settled?" Blindside enquired happily.

"_Yes!"_ Sideswipe chimed, followed by a very reluctant, _"Do I have a choice?" _from Sunstreaker.

Wildride chuckled and patted them both on the head. "Let's drop you off and get this over with."

* * *

Barricade hailed them at the gates, dour as usual. He ushered them in with a sparse greeting, and then ducked to capture an errant youngling as it attempted to make a break for the open gate.

"Run off, Ram, before I stick you on a shelf too high for you to climb off," the Guardian threatened as he shooed the orange bot off. The youngling scrunched his faceplate and made a rude noise, running off to rejoin his friends. They all looked back at Barricade with glittering optics, making it clear that this was not their first attempt at escape, nor would it be the last. It was too good a game to stop playing it with the Guardians.

"Quick little bratling," Barricade lamented to no one in particular. "If he wasn't so orange, he could probably slip passed me."

Sunstreaker immediately took pity on the youngling. Orange paint was nearly as ugly as brown. His attention, though, was quickly diverted as he caught sight of a large gathering in the center of the courtyard comprising of nearly 30 younglings are sparklings. Fascinated by so many little ones gathered in one place, the twins watched as several Caretakers, ranging from short minibots to tall femmes, raised their hands into the air, stretching as high as their servos would allow. The younglings around them mirrored their actions. When the Caretakers leaned to the left, the younglings leaned to the left. When the Caretakers leaned to the right, the younglings leaned to the right. When the Caretakers announced for them to 'shake it off!", the whole crowd dissolved into twittering laughter as they shook themselves so hard they fell over. The actions were repeated a few times, and then a new movement was introduced.

"What are they all doing?" Sideswipe asked, instantly wanting to join in.

"Coordination exercises to improve their motor skills; they do them every morning," Barricade informed, making his way to the main building on the other side of the yard, letting the group of four follow.

"It looks like a game," Sideswipe surmised.

Barricade shrugged. "It has to look fun or otherwise no one would want to do it, and then we'd have a herd of bots scooting around on their skid plates because they couldn't walk in a straight line. Not exactly the things a Youth Sector wants to be known for."

Sunstreaker looked affronted. "We never did coordination exercises and we can walk just fine."

"That's because you had something a little better," Wildride intoned proudly. "We taught you our stunts to better your motor skills, which is _loads_ more fun. You're vorns ahead of the rest here in your motor development. You could probably somersault circles around them."

"I like the tricks more, but I'd still like to play with them," Sideswipe mediated honestly.

"You have to be processed in first, then you can play," Barricade intoned, allowing them to enter the office first. Inside was just as colourful outside, with two softly painted microbots sitting next to each other at a small desk perched on top of a minibot-sized desk. Both of them were merrily zipping through data pads, keeping up a lightning-paced conversation with a youngling sitting in a miniature chair in front of them. They looked up at the same time when they heard someone enter, twittered their greetings, and then went back to their rapid-fire work. The youngling with them fell silent to ogle the twins, little optics wide as he recognized them. A mauve minibot ay another desk was a little more gracious. He stood, touched hands with everyone, and then ushered the twins to be dropped on his desk. They were processed in rather quickly- all it took was a scan to register their frame models and paint colours, list who their Creators were, time of drop off and estimated pickup, and then a tracking collar was snapped on them so they wouldn't be misplaced during their stay.

Sunstreaker pulled at his collar, not liking how the orange hue made the brown of his frame look. "Do we have to wear these?"

"Do you want to go out and play with the others?" Barricade countered.

"Not really," the sparkling replied honestly.

"Well, too bad. We all have to do things we don't like," the Guardian replied. "You have to wear those so Caretakers know where you are in here, and if you somehow get loose, Guardians like me will be able to track you down."

A hacking noise came from somewhere to left, announcing that Sideswipe had somehow managed to get the tip of his foot stuck in his collar and was slowly strangling himself. As soon as he was freed, he pouted accusingly in Barricade's direction. "How come the others here don't have to wear these things?"

A peal of laughter floated from the curious youngling watching them. "Everyone here knows our spark resonances off by spark, sillies! It's too easy to track us."

Barricade rolled his optics, wandering over to pluck the youngling up between two pinched fingers. "Who needs a spark resonance when you never mute it, you little chatterbox?" he grumped, receiving a rude noise in reply. To Blindside and Wildride, he confided in a not-so-quiet voice, "his Creator thought it'd be funny to give him full lingual programming before he was onlined."

"And how is that working out?" Blindside enquired lightly.

The dirty look Barricade shot the mech was answer enough. He nudged the youngling toward the twins. "You are going to look after them for the orn. Take them around the Sector, introduce them to the others, and make sure they stay out of trouble. Can you do that?"

With the weight of such a great task placed on his skinny shoulders, the youngling snapped up with all the self-importance in the world. "Yeah, I can do it!" Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were unprepared when the strange bot leapt forward, captured their wrists, and began dragging them towards the tiny staircase that ran down the side of the desk. "We're going to have so much fun! I'll show my alcove that I like to download in, and my berth- I even wrote my designation on the bottom, and all the play equipment, and all the best hiding spots! I'll even take you to the holodeck and the observation room! I bet you've never seen anything like them! But, you know, being from a stunt troop, I bet you've seen plenty of other interesting places, huh?"

"Um...yes?" Sideswipe chirped, a little dazed.

They were halfway down the stairs by the time they realized Blindside was kneeling by them with an odd little half-smile in place. "No goodbyes?"

Sideswipe shook his wrist free of his new friend's grip, flinging his arms out. "Bye, Blindside!" he crowed. "Bye, Wildride!" He giggled when he was stroked fondly.

"Bye, little one," Blindside supplied.

"You'll be back to get us soon, right?" Sunstreaker asked.

"We'll be here on time, not a breem later," the star-spangled mech assured.

Wildride leaned over his mate, touching the top of Sunstreaker's head. "Remember what I told you, young one. Keep it in mind and you'll do fine."

"I will. Bye."

The two sparkmates left with fond waves, escorted to the gates by Barricade.

The youngling now in charge of the twins watched the proceedings with a certain degree of interest, partially due to the fact that both the Creators and sparklings were _famous_, and partially because he'd never seen home-cared sparklings before. They acted totally different with their Creators than bots in Youth Sectors did. They were more attached to their Creators. It was probably from living with them instead of seeing them every few orns like a normal young bot would. Coming to that conclusion, the youngling was a lot slower to proceed with his new friends.

"You two ready?" he asked.

Sideswipe made sure to take his brother's pincer and hold it tight. "Yeah, we're ready. Where to first?"

"I don't know yet. We'll find out when we get there." The youngling hopped his way down the stairs, letting the twins follow.

"Don't overwhelm them," one Caretaker warned.

"I'll try not to," called the youngling.

They exited the administration building and started to wander. Within the first few disorientating moments of being out in the very large courtyard, the twins were quick to pick up on several key things. Firstly, this was the first time they had ever been anywhere new without one of their stuntmech-brethren being around (other than that time they fell down the lift shaft, but they tended to block that memory out). Secondly, the Youth Sector looked a lot bigger now that they didn't have their Creator's around to shield them and keep them off the ground. Not only did it look bigger, but it was a lot more crowded from their new perspective, too. So many sparklings and younglings! More than they had ever seen before! It was only now that they were starting to realize how under-developed their social skills were; despite all the experience they had with the performances their troop put on, they had no idea what to do with so many potential friends!

The last thing they were coming to discover was that their new youngling friend liked to talk. A lot.

"-I have your holopics pasted on my berth, you know? I remember exactly what I was doing the orn you came online. I was sitting in my alcove downloading files on the history of Crystal City when all the Caretakers suddenly got in this huge hissy fit. No one knew what was going on until Barricade and the other Guardians came in and got real loud to calm everyone down. We thought Wheeljack blew himself up again! And then someone turned up the comms on Soundwave's channel, 'cause he's the best for news, even though I like Blaster more- and wouldn't you believe it! He was reporting that a spark had split in two at Iacon! Slaggin' twins, y'know? No one could believe it! It was the most awesome orn ever! Everyone started running around all crazy and yelling; Barricade practically ran out the gates to meet your Creators at the terminal! He wouldn't let no one else go 'cause he didn't trust any of the other Guardians with such an important thing. He's a really good mech like that- super tough, but he kinda loves everyone in his own way. And then Wheeljack really did blow himself up at the end of the orn!" A peal of laughter sparkled from him as he clapped. "And your designations are the coolest ever! Sideswipe and Sunstreaker; designations like that are usually chosen for adults, y'know! Usually we just get loan designations, something short like a beep or a whistle until we reformat. But you two got awesome designations right off the bat! You're really lucky like that! And then you got to go live with the stuntmechs... How much more awesome can you get, right? I was kind of disappointed that your Creators decided to home-care you, though. It would have been so neat if you came here to be raised! I bet we would have been friends! Oh- not that I mean we can't be friends now. I'd love to be friends now! If that's alright with you, I mean..." He spun around to see what the Twins' responses would be, only to find that they looked pretty lost. Suddenly, the youngling smacked himself in the head. "Oh no! I can't believe I'm doing it again! The Caretakers are always telling me I'm doing it but I never know when to stop! Stupid me! Stupid, stupid, stupid me!"

The twins skidded to a halt as soon as the youngling began to assault himself. They glanced to each other in stark incredulity. Were all Sector-raised bots crazy?

"What are you doing that's so bad?" Sunstreaker asked cautiously.

"I'm making a bad impression!" the youngling wailed passionately. "I'm supposed to tell you my designation, touch hands, and not talk so much, but I can't help it when I'm excited!" He danced from foot to foot anxiously. "It's not every orn you get to meet two of the most famous bots on the planet!"

The mottled-brown sparkling blinked dumbly. "We're not _that_ famous..."

The youngling waved a hand. "No way, you're _super_-famous! Everyone knows you and thinks you're awesome!"

"Super famous!" the red sparkling sang delightedly.

They squealed when the youngling weaseled his way between them, hooking an arm around each of their necks. "Oh yes, you're super-super-super-famous! I've thought you guys were awesome from the day you were created!"

"Thanks- uh…" It was then that Sunstreaker realized he still didn't have a designation for the youngling.

"Oh, I did it _again!_ Why can't I get introducing myself right?!" he wailed. _"I'm Blue!_"

Sunstreaker paused oddly, looking the youngling up and down. "Yes, you are." Actually, he was more of a greenish-blue colour, but who wanted to be picky over something like that?

The youngling stopped dead, blinked, and then shook his head. "No, silly, that's my designation! I'm Blue!" He slapped himself in the chest to make his point.

"Oh, now I get it!" Sideswipe laughed. "Nice to meet you, Blue!"

"Nice to meet you, too!" Blue suddenly grinned so wide it looked as if his faceplate would split. "So, what do you want to do first? Do you want to go play with the others? My friends are over there, if you wanna go meet them." He pointed to a small gathering of younglings of various shapes and sizes hanging off a play structure. They waved when they saw Blue pointing. "I know they want to meet you."

Sunstreaker stared warily, clicking his pincers. There looked to be about a dozen different bots in that direction, which was far too many to meet at one time. One or two would be okay, but any more than that was scary. Sideswipe, now without the protection of his Creators and left to the wide world of the Sector with only his brother and new friend to lean on, found himself a whole lot more nervous about meeting strangers. He might not have been as nervous as his brother, whose discomfort was painfully obvious, but Sideswipe was still pretty darn nervous.

"Can you give us a tour first?" the red twin asked, his brother quickly nodding his agreement.

"'Course I can!"

The twins cheered delightedly, thankful for a short reprieve to orient themselves before they faced the droves of curious bots here.

"Is Ratchet here right now?" Sideswipe wondered.

Blue tipped his head curiously. "Sure, Ratchet's here. He's probably in the med bay where he always is. Either that or he's in the labs with Wheeljack." He leaned in conspiratorially. "Rumour has it that they're actually exclusives keeping it on the down low. Any orn now, they're going to go off and sparkbond or something like that."

Sideswipe crinkled his faceplate. "Ratchet sparkbond with Wheeljack?"

Blue nodded sagely. "Oh yeah, I heard they've been together since they were sparklings at their own Sector. They even share their quarters, I think... never been back in the administrative quarters before to know, but it's what I've heard." And one lesson young bots learned quickly in the Youth Sector was that rumours were basically the truth that no one had bothered to confirm yet.

"Poor Wheeljack," the red twin sighed emphatically. Getting stuck with grumpy old Ratchet for the rest of forever wasn't exactly something a bot looked forward to.

"Why did you want to know if Ratchet was in?" Blue wondered.

An impish grin lit the corners of Sideswipes mouthplates. "Just wondering. Maybe we could go see him, if there's time? Ratchet and Wheeljack are always so much fun when they come to the coliseum- it's only fair we get to see them where they function."

Sunstreaker suddenly tensed as he sensed the undercurrent of his brother's voice, optics narrowing suspiciously. "What are you planning?"

"Nothing," his brother sang happily.

"It's not nothing," Sunstreaker grumped. Sideswipe was definitely up to _something_. He might deny it out loud, but he wasn't skilled enough to lie through their bond. In fact, he sucked at trying. Sunstreaker turned to Blue. "Don't take us to the med bay. It'll be bad for everyone."

Blue looked utterly taken with the both of them, despite the warning. "_Wow_, did you two just communicate through your sparkbond? That is so cool! What's it like? How do you do it?"

The twins exchanged surprised looks, leaning away as Blue leaned into them.

"It's just something we can do. It's no big deal..." Sunstreaker moderated with a shrug.

"No big deal? Yeah, right!" Blue started tugging them excitedly towards a new building, this one jutting high into the skyline, no doubt the main hub of the entire Sector. "It'd be so cool to be able to transmit messages to other bots, but we can't do that until we reformat. Closest thing we have is interfacing when you get upgraded to a youngling, but even that is really restricted. I'm just getting a hang of interfacing- it's harder than it looks! But you two are like _connected_." He tapped two fingers from opposite hands together to illustrate how connected they were. "Like magic, right? Or like sparkmates. You can talk through your sparks or something like that."

"Kinda," Sideswipe chirped, allowing himself to be dragged into the new building.

"Neat!" They passed into the towering building, scampering beneath minibot feet to the far end of the airy lobby. "The med bay and engineering lab is on this floor, so we can go see Ratchet first before we go anywhere else." Blue pointed up to the soft-yellow ceiling above them. "Everything goes up from here, so I can show all the neatest floors. Since I have youngling status, I can get us in to all the sparkling-restricted areas, but you have to promise you won't tell anyone, 'kay? I don't want my access codes revoked."

"Promise!" the twins coursed as they scampered through the maze of brightly lit halls. Huge crystalline windows served as divides for some rooms, shattering the light so that it made rainbows over everything. Even if the paint along the walls reminded them of the colours of the coliseum, the crystalline windows and walls they passed by gave them a vague sense of déjà vu, like being back in the crystal spires of the Council Pantheon in Iacon. It was weird, but in a strangely pleasant, calming sort of way. At the very back of the complex, the med bay doors glinted merrily in a mote of light shining down from the faux-skylight. It was the least-scariest med bay door there ever was. If only there wasn't a monster on the other side.

"Okay, here we are: the med bay!" Blue announced, skipping through the door as it opened. "Ratchet! Hey! I have some bots here who want to see you!"

Sideswipe smacked his faceplate with his palm. Apparently Blue wasn't programmed to be subtle. To make the best of the situation, he and his brother trotted in, fully expecting to have the medic looming over them with his grumpy-medic-scowl firmly in place. There were only so many times you could purge on a mech before he started holding a grudge. Luckily, there was no Ratchet in the med bay.

"Huh, funny, he's usually here," Blue commented absently, turning in a curious circle.

"Must of heard we were coming," Sideswipe snickered. He started taking in his immediate surroundings, the mischief-cogs in his head starting to churn. What to do first? What would cause the most damage?

Darting movement to the left caught Sunstreaker's optic. He froze, glaring at whatever had disappeared around the support column of a berth. "Wait, someone might be here," he warned, trotting over to investigate. A series of squeaking chirps met his audios, and then the blank faceplate of Tungsten the drone appeared, a cleaning implement in its hands as it went about sanitizing the floor. "False alarm," he called, watching as the drone went about its appointed task.

Sideswipe watched Wheeljack's speciality drone for a few long astroseconds before a long, slow grin stretched his faceplate. "Hey, Blue, you have paint in this place, right?"

The green-blue youngling shrugged, still standing awkwardly near the entrance. "Yeah, sure. There's plenty in the painting room."

"How much do you think we can get in here?"

"Don't know... Why?"

" 'Cause I got an idea for this place." He turned a quick circle, arms thrown into the air. "This is the only room so far that doesn't have any colour in it. It's so boring and empty. We're going to fix it up for Ratchet, 'cause we love him so much."

Satisfied with the answer, Blue was more than happy to take them to the paint room to gather up as much paint as they could carry, trooping it back the med bay for Sideswipe's planned makeover. By some extreme stroke of luck, Ratchet had not returned, though the drone was still hard at work.

"Okay, this is going to be the tricky part..." Sideswipe said, sneaking up on Tungsten from behind. They were nearly the same height, but the drone, being Wheeljack's drone, was heavily armoured, meaning it wasn't going to go down easy. Jumping on its back, he covered the drone's optics, causing it to squeal and flail in attempt to remove the obstruction. "Quick, switch the washer!"

Instantly, Sunstreaker and Blue dove in with the miniature blow dryer they'd snatched from a layaway in the next corridor. There was a brief fight for the washer, seeing as the drone was several times stronger than they were and very reluctant to let go of its tool. Sideswipe employed a trick he'd once seen Flashdance use on one of the coliseum's drones, shaking Tungsten's head so it would lose all sense of orientation. Finally disorientated to the point where it no longer heeded its initial command, the washer was finally stripped away from the drone and replaced with the blow dryer. The industrial-strength dryer was generally meant to be used for drying super wet floors after a cleaning, or for drying out the wash racks before the room rusted, but it would work nicely for what Sideswipe had planned. With the dryer in place, the three troublemakers backed away, watching warily as the drone straightened itself. As it discovered its washer gone, it paused to figure out what it was supposed to do next, and then came to the conclusion that it was supposed to start drying. With a cheerful squeak, it went about the task.

"Yes! It worked!" Sideswipe cheered.

Blue didn't seem to understand the point. "Why are we messing with Tungsten? I thought you said we were going to paint this place for Ratchet."

Sunstreaker rolled his optics, holding up a large cube of honeysuckle-yellow paint. "That's what the drone is for. We leave the paint, it'll do the painting." He tossed his cube in front of Tungsten and watched as yellow spattered everywhere. Detecting the sudden splash of wetness, the drone turned and immediately began blow drying the paint. The strength of the blow drier ensured that the paint sprayed everywhere, coating all surfaces in the near vicinity.

Sideswipe laughed and started throwing paint cubes everywhere, watching as Tungsten twisted rapidly in order to dry the wet spots it was detecting. "Come on, Blue. It's fun! Toss a few!"

A little less confidently, Blue lobbed a few cubes. After the first three, he got confident enough to pick up a big neon-blue cube and heave it hard, watching with supreme satisfaction as a tidal wave of paint spilled everywhere. "Do you think that's enough?"

"Sunstreaker's the expert at painting," Sideswipe said, looking to his brother. "What do you think?"

A careful optic cast about the med bay, which now boasted the most hideous paintjob ever. "I think our job's done here."

They ran for it, quick and nibble out the door and into the nearest lift.

"I can't believe we did that!" Blue gasped, optics bright.

"Ratchet's gonna love his present!" Sideswipe crowed, slipping down the wall to roll on the floor laughing.

They took the lift passed several floors, including the holodecks, the downloading stations, play rooms, interview rooms, and other floors of various purposes until they made it to the top of the tower. Piling out, they were rushed by a gaggle of young bots.

"Hey everyone!" Blue greeted. "These are my new friends, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker."

Instantly, the twins were seized in the clutches of way too many strange bots. Unlike adults, the youngling had yet to understand maintaining polite boundaries and asking for permission before approaching unknown young ones. Designations and invitations to play were thrown in the twins' audios until they could hear nothing but wild chattering squeaks and squeals. Sideswipe laughed and clapped a couple younglings on the forehead, but his brother wasn't faring so well, practically withering out of his plating. A microbot Caretaker came running in and shooed everyone away, freeing the twins from the mass and letting them into the dormitories without further fuss.

"Blue, you were told not to overwhelm them," the Caretaker chastised sharply.

"I know, I know- I didn't mean to." Blue looked apologetic as he took Sunstreaker's pincer, rubbing it between his hands. "I'm sorry- I didn't think that was going to bother you so much... I wasn't really thinking about it at all. It was just that our next stop was up here, and I come up here every orn, I didn't think about all the others that would be up here... Do you want to sit down or something, Sunstreaker? You really don't look so well right now..."

The poor mottled-brown sparkling frowned, wobbling a little as he got his bearings back. "I'm fine," he growled before Blue could start talking again. The crowd had just taken him by surprise, that was all.

"Don't worry about it, Blue," Sideswipe assured with a shinning grin. "We're from a stunt troop, remember? We're used to that kind of thing. It's just the fact that everyone's our age and size here that's kind of freaky."

Blue looked marginally cheered. "If you say so. Do you want to see my berth now? It's in dormitory 4." He trotted down the corridor passed a few open entrances and ducked into the room labelled "Four". The twins followed at a slower pace, met by a few lingering stares by the remaining bots on the floor. Were they really that interesting? Sunstreaker scowled while Sideswipe starting chirping about being superstars.

"Mute it, Sides. We're famous for being freaks, that's it," he shushed, stepping on his brother's foot.

Before a squabble could break out, Blue flagged them down to his berth, which was chest-high off the ground and set onto a thick block bolted to the floor. It was inset with a series of subspace drawers for all the little knickknacks a youngling could ever want to store. It was exactly like the berth next to him, and the berth next to that. The only thing different from the fifteen other berths in the room was the fact that someone had taken a paintbrush and scribbled the word "_Bloo" _at one end of the small slab.

"This is where I recharge," Blue announced. He pointed proudly to the word 'Bloo'. "See, there's my designation!" He failed to mention that he wrote it before he could spell. Thankfully, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had yet to download sessions on Cybertronian script to recognize the error.

"This is almost like the dorms at the coliseum," Sunstreaker commented. If the berths were a little bigger, it would have been exactly like the coliseum's dorms- minus the berths hanging from the ceiling for the aerials.

"What'd you expect? For us to all have separate rooms? That's such a waste of space!" Blue laughed. He dug into one of his drawers and pulled out an armful of holopics, shoving them into the twins' arms. "This is my family," he announced. "Periwinkle is my Creator, and these are my brothers Azure, Lapis Lazuli, Indigo, Ultramarine, and Teal. Oh, and this one's my sister, Aquamarine!"

Glancing at the pics, the twins didn't know whether to laugh or not: all the bots featured were painted different shades of blue.

"They all live in Crystal City, and all of them function in Security Response. My Creator is really lucky to have such a high ranking function; he oversees all the precincts in the city and gets to decide whether or not they need new recruits. He even gets to decide whether they'll be pre-programs or sparklings." Blue leaned in conspiratorially. "Everyone says that pre-programs are better for Security Response because they're ready right away for service, but Periwinkle told me that he prefers bots who've had a chance to be a sparkling first and enjoy that part of their lives. He says that a bot who makes the choice to be in a certain function is always stronger at it than a bot who never had the choice at all. I agree with him, I think. There are some things that are better learned than just getting programmed into your processor, y'know? My Creator's a real smart mech for knowing that. " The pictures were plucked away and shoved back into their drawer.

Sideswipe rubbed an audio, trying to tune it to keep up with Blue's high-speed chatter. "I thought it was against the rules to pressure sparklings into certain functions..."

"Oh, it is. I don't have to join Security Response if I don't want to. Nobody will be mad if I decide to be something else, but I like the sound of it. I even chose to upgrade to youngling status a couple of vorns ago so I could begin downloading and training for my apprenticeship. It's the least I could do after they went through all the trouble of applying for my spark and letting me use this frame." He spun around and bent over to show an engraved emblem on his skid plate. "See? Crystal City owns my frame. As soon as I reformat, this frame goes back to be used by the next spark. They were nice enough to let me use it, so why not give back a little? Plus, if I join Security Response, I'll be in another city-owned frame. I won't have to pay for repairs or maintenance or anything!"

"Yeah, but you'll probably be stuck in some yucky frame that seizes and looks gross," Sunstreaker harrumphed. He'd seen the Security Response bots for Centaurie Tetrax, and, sufficed to say, they definitely weren't functioning there for the aesthetic endowments.

Blue laughed, deciding to drag them to a lift at the end of the room, this one in encased in a clear crystalline shaft so they could watch themselves rise. "Crystal City isn't anything like Centaurie Tetrax. It gets a lot more revenue from tourists and stuff like that. All the city-owned frames are really well taken care of," he explained happily. "I mean, look at this frame; it's older than your model, but it's refitted with new plating after every use so that it doesn't wear down. From what I can tell, all city-owned frames get their plating replaced and their innards overhauled after every use. Even if the endoskeleton is the same, they at least make the exoplating look good."

"I guess that's not too bad, if you get updated and all," the brown sparkling sighed. He looked Blue over carefully, regarding him with a whole new level of respect knowing that the youngling's frame was older than his, and worse yet, had had dozens of sparks parked in it.

Before anymore could be said, the lift door opened and deposited them on the very top floor, which revealed itself to be the observation deck. It was substantially less crowded than previous places explored, with only one or two sparse groups quietly enjoying the view. A larger group toured the wraparound balcony on the outside as a volunteered Seeker instructed them on the finer points of airway safety in preparation for their reformatting into flight capable frames. Lounging on the balcony farthest from the lift, both Ratchet and Wheeljack could be seen enjoying some down time. They could have been recharging, by the looks of it. Notably, Wheeljack's arm was slung comfortably across the medic's shoulders.

Blue waved to the wall-to-ceiling windows. "The balcony isn't accessible to sparklings, since you might fall off, but I can go out there. If you don't tell anyone, I can sneak you out, too. Maybe we'll even be able to tell Ratchet that we redecorated his med bay for him, too."

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker exchanged glances. Clearly Blue did not understand the finer points of pulling off a prank.

"I think we'll avoid Ratchet for now," Sideswipe said carefully, patting the green-blue bot on the shoulder. "If we never ever tell him who painted his med bay, we'll all be better for it." As discreetly as he could, he led his brother and Blue as far away from Ratchet as possible.

To the twins' great and utter surprise, they enjoyed themselves immensely for the rest of the orn. Having caught on that the twins didn't really want to go out into the open courtyard with so many new faceplates there, Blue had decided to keep them in the relative isolation of the top floor, successfully distracting them with the cityscape. The green-blue youngling might not have been an expert at what buildings were which, but with the help of a few friends, the twins quickly learned which way was north, south, east, and west, the different districts in the city they could see from their lookout. Best of all, they were pointed in the right direction of the troop's coliseum. While Blue did offer to take the twins out on to the balcony for a better look at everything, they declined. The risk of stumbling across Ratchet and inciting something was too great.

By late mid-orn, enough curious Sector youths had gathered to invite a game of chase. They weren't pushy about it, though. Some of them were downright as shy as Sunstreaker was, so it actually took them a good joor of wandering around before they could pluck up the courage to ask if the twins wanted to play. Thankfully, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were comfortable enough by now to accept the invitation. What the Sector bots quickly discovered as the game got underway was that they were outmatched greatly by the skill and speed of their home-cared friends. It didn't even matter that Sunstreaker and Sideswipe were only sparklings with a fraction of downloading experience, they could run circles around everyone. They even had a secret weapon; they could help each other cheat by warning the other without saying anything when a bot was getting close to catching them.

"They're so awesome," one youngling breathed as he paused near Blue.

Blue grinned proudly. "I know! They're so cool!"

Sideswipe came streaking passed them, nothing but a blur of red as he squealed. "They're gonna get me! They're gonna get me!" Three younglings were on his heels, running as fast as they could to catch him. When it looked like the lead one had him cornered, Sideswipe crouched low, grinned brightly, and then launched into a perfect backflip over his pursuers. He landed with a "Whoop! Whoop! Can't catch me!"- and was off running again.

Blue cheered, clapping excitedly. "Go Sideswipe! You're gonna win the game!"

Sunstreaker clattered by, mere steps ahead of his own pursuers. His frame prevented him from picking up the speeds his brother could achieve, but his experience with his troop kept him out of reach. Imagining himself being chased by the aerials, he zigzagged right, left, and the skidded around a pillar. He didn't want to lose, but he was too clunky to keep running much longer without blowing something.

"Gonna get you!" someone laughed from behind.

"No you're not!" Sunstreaker cried, throwing a teasing look over his shoulder.

The bots behind him skidded to a halt, optics going wide. "Stop! Stop!"

"Why-?" He turned too late, running headlong into one of the younglings who'd been out on the balcony with the Seeker. There was a rather loud bang as they collided, the big black youngling flying one way and Sunstreaker tumbling the other. A sudden tension-filled silence instantly hushed over the observation deck. A few newly-onlined sparklings mewled nervously.

"Watch where you're going, slag heap!" barked the black youngling as he shoved himself to his feet. He had a large frame that wreaked of wealth- fine, streamlined features, immaculate paint, and probably built with expensive metals.

"S-sorry!" Sunstreaker croaked, scooting away from the other bot. "It was an accident." Sideswipe was at his side instantly, helping him to his feet.

"Yeah right. Get your optics checked before you go running around like you own the place," the youngling growled, glaring stubbornly. "This is our home, not yours."

"We're not looking to take over. We were just playing," Sideswipe huffed, frowning. He gripped his brother's arm close. "Come one, bro, let's go now. We can play somewhere else."

Sunstreaker's optics fell to the floor, allowing for Sideswipe to guide him away.

Seeing as the two outsiders were too cowardly to stick around, the black youngling snorted at them. He grabbed his own friends and marched for the lift. One staunch little bot with an upturned olfactory sensor leaned in and sneered.

"...he's even uglier in person than in his holopics-."

Sunstreaker went rigid.

The black youngling laughed sharply, not even bothering to lower his voice. "You're right. It's the ugliest frame I've ever seen."

Sideswipe bristled, his little fingers tightening in his brother's arm.

Blue both heard the words and saw the effect it had on his friends. He was quick to slide to their sides, hoping to urge them away. "Just ignore them. They're half-bits who think they're better than everyone else 'cause their Creators are in the Council. What they say don't mean nothing. Come on, let's just leave. We can play chase elsewhere." Blue's attempts did nothing to deafen what was said next by the nasty black-painted youngling-

"I bet the stuntmechs are really embarrassed to have such an ugly frame with them. They probably wish their spark never split in the first place-."

Something in Sunstreaker cracked. One breem, he was standing next to his brother, and the next he was on top of the other youngling. The blinding flash of fury that erupted through him was enough to throw Sideswipe to the floor, clutching his chest as his spark burned. A piercing screech screamed from the little brown sparkling as he started swinging his pincers wildly into the older bot's head.

"Mute it! Mute it! Mute it! Don't you ever say that about my family again!" Sunstreaker swung so hard that sparks flew.

"You crazy glitch!" Black hands reached around and threw him off. Sunstreaker landed in a crouch, heaving from the instant rage boiling in him.

"Don't you ever talk about my family again!" he screamed, pincers up, ready to dive back into the fight.

"I'll talk about whoever I want whenever I want," his adversary sneered, charging headlong. It was a stupid move, really. Sunstreaker knew exactly what to do, dodging to the side and sticking out his foot to trip the other bot. He went sprawling, only to have the brown twin on him an astrosecond later. The youngling might have been bigger than Sunstreaker, but he didn't know how to fight. He'd probably never even raised his fists to anyone. Sector-raised bots were never exposed to violence of any sort. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe held a great advantage over them; not only did they have their stuntmech training, but they also had had the opportunity to watch their family wrestle and play fight with each other. If there was one thing a sparkling did well, it was pick up things quick.

"Someone get a Caretaker!" a younger sparkling cried, clinging to the leg of an elder youngling.

"Get a Guardian!" another yelled, but made no move to leave. No one did. They were all mesmerized by the fight.

A few of the black youngling's friends made a move to pry Sunstreaker off, only to find a blur of red suddenly in front of them. In the astrosecond they made a move to threaten his twin, Sideswipe forgot the shock of his brother's rage and was on his feet to protect him.

"You ain't gonna touch him!" he snarled, fists cocked.

All the raucous was enough to carry through the crystal windows, waking the dozing mechs out there. They were up, stretched, and then realized that all was not right in the world. Spinning around to see what the matter was, they took in the sight of a large gathering of little bots surrounding a single pair- a black one they recognized as Bang and a brown one wailing on him who could only be Sunstreaker. At the edges of the circle, Sideswipe ran back and forth, snapping at any bot who dared come anywhere near his brother. Horrified to find such a thing happening in their Sector, Ratchet and Wheeljack were running for the door immediately.

"What is going on here?!" Ratchet roared, instantly freezing two dozen youths in their tracks. The most interesting pose was Sunstreaker with his pincers raises, ready to knock the optics right out of Bang's head.

Wheeljack, now reformatted into a minibot frame, parted the crowd with his foot. "This ain't the way ya treat anyone," he admonished, capturing the combatants and holding them apart. "Who started this?"

"_He did!_" cried both bots, pointing to each other.

Ratchet growled, causing everyone to shrink back. He reached for the bots in Wheeljack's grasp, only to find Sideswipe racing to his feet and scaling his leg like a skidsquirrel.

"Don't hurt him!" the sparkling screamed.

Ratchet snorted impatiently, grabbing the red twin and swinging him to his shoulder. "I'm not going to hurt anyone." With that said, he took Sunstreaker and Bang from Wheeljack, holding them in an unyielding grip. "You two are going to tell me exactly what happened to incite such outrageous behaviour right this instant or I'll dismantle the both of you!"

Bang seethed heatedly. "That crazy glitch just jumped on my back for no reason! He's insane!"

Sunstreaker screeched, optics flashing. "That fragger called me ugly! He said my Creators and troop didn't want me! He's slagging glitch!" He tried to launch himself at Bang again, but thankfully the medic's hand was tight enough to prevent the attack.

"That sparkling should be reprogrammed! You don't just jump on someone's back and start hitting them!" one of Bang's friends shouted.

Sideswipe glared balefully. "You're the ones who should be reprogrammed! You didn't see us saying anything about your Creators or what you look like!" He flung his arm in Bang's direction. "He got what he deserved!"

Everyone decided to start shouting at once, giving their own heated opinion on the matter.

"Alright! Alright! I've heard enough!" Ratchet barked. "All of you, _mute it_!" They fell silent simultaneously. "I'm taking you three with me- the rest of you, get on with your orn. Any of you get the bright idea to try repeating what happened here and I'll have Barricade deal with you." The threat was enough to scatter everyone to the far corners of the Sector. With them gone, Ratchet glared down testily at Bang, and then at the twins. "Here for only an orn and already you're causing trouble. One would think you would try to pace yourselves."

They snorted stubbornly in reply.

Wheeljack pursed his mouthplates as he received a brief message. "Their Creators are here to get them. I'll take 'em down."

"Good riddance!" Bang snapped.

"Shush, little one. That's not kind at all," the engineer hummed. He plucked the twins from Ratchet and soothed their bristling plating.

"I'm going to have to report this," the medic sighed. "It's not going to look good on their records…"

"Nah, Ratchet, cut them some slack. It was their first orn here. They probably were just overwhelmed," Wheeljack reasoned. "Let this one go- I'm sure it won't happen again." He was already making his way to the lift, confident that Ratchet would do the right thing.

"You better be right," the medic sighed, preparing to drag Bang to the med bay for a good stern talking to.

All the tension in Sunstreaker's frame leaked out the farther away from the observation deck he got. By the time they hit ground floor, he all but sagged in Wheeljack's grip.

"Fighting is hard work," he sighed.

"Then don't do it again," Wheeljack replied lightly. Sideswipe nodded emphatically. He may have leapt to his brother's defence, but that didn't mean he liked it. Everything about the fight left him feeling weird inside- not just his own lingering fear, but the disturbing sense that some part of his brother had actually _enjoyed_ what he did.

"Can't imagine where the two of you would get the idea to do somethin' so stupid," the engineer admonished as he trotted out of the lift.

"Wildride told me to," Sunstreaker mumbled.

Both Wheeljack and Sideswipe paused.

"Wildride wouldn't tell you to fight," Sideswipe countered cautiously.

The mottled-brown sparkling shook his head miserably. "Yes he would- he told me before he dropped us off. Said that if anyone tried to start anything with me, I should make sure I finish it- that way they don't bug me again. I was only doing what he said..."

Wheeljack frowned deeply. "Now, see, that just ain't right to tell a little sparkling that. Ya think he might'a meant that you should end it before a fight broke out?"

"Maybe..." Sunstreaker sighed, although he knew what his Creator truly had meant. Whether or not he started the fight, he should make sure he ended it.

"In any case, just try not ta get into anymore skirmishes next time yer here."

"I won't." Sadly, those words weren't going to take away the taste he'd gotten. Someone had made fun of him and he'd made them stop. Power like that wasn't easily forgotten. His brother rocked himself awkwardly, unsure of what to say or feel anymore. They were saved any more uneasiness by a flash of stars and fireworks, finding themselves swept up into the embrace of their Creators.

"We're right on time, like we promised," Blindside announced warmly.

Sideswipe smiled weakly. "Thanks."

Blindside's smile faded. "Is everything alright?"

"They got in a minor brush with another youngling. Nothing big," Wheeljack assured.

Wildride's gaze flashed bright for an astrosecond, optics falling to his brown sparkling. Sunstreaker stared back, his faceplate strangely blank. Nonetheless, he nodded, letting his Creator know everything he needed to.

Blindside touched hands with the engineer gratefully. "Thanks for looking after them."

"It was our pleasure," the engineer murmured. In one smooth move, he removed their tracking collars and helped strap them in to their harnesses as their Creators transformed.

"I just want to get home now," Sunstreaker mumbled tiredly.

As they made it out the gates, a roar from the bowels of the Youth Sector shook the foundations of the buildings nearby. It was the sound of Ratchet discovering his new med bay.

Sideswipe squirmed, patting Blindside's insides. "Drive really fast."


	13. Chapter 8

*Takes deep breath* Busy, busy, busy. I'm sure you can all relate, yeah? Life and crap like that. If a break from reality is what you're looking for, you've come to the right place. Sit back, get comfortable, and prepare for reality to melt away, at least for a little while. :) And when you're done, take five minutes to leave a little review with a touch of sunshine in it to brighten my day. God knows, I'd love to hear from you all! ^_^

**FunkyFish1991**- Thanks so much for the review! It makes me smile every time I read it! :) All the quotes you pulled out were some of my favourite parts! XD Especially Sideswipe getting his foot stuck in his collar and Blue righting his designation wrong. XD Oh, and much cosmic hugs to you for reading over this chapter. This is for you! :)

**Balrog Roike**- You certainly have some strong opinions there, my friend. The differences that you note in children between those with more family time and those who go to Kitas are well founded, but are for _human_ children. You may interpret the Youth Sectors of this story as 'cotton soft', but they are the norm for this story's TFs. They work for that species, even if it might not for ours; everything about them is designed to nurture and prepare a young Cybertronian for their life beyond. It's no replacement for the family unit, of course, but there is no such thing as a 'family' as us humans know it in this story- all families, like the stunt troop, are simply bots together who decide they want to be a family, whether consciously or unconsciously deciding. As for everything else in your review- yeah, Blue was Bluestreak. :) Bang isn't necessarily anyone. ^^; As for Sunstreaker… yeah, every little one needs to test his strengths, but when you take in to account what he becomes, a little bit of fighting is a frightening foreshadow.

**DitzyMusicLover**- Hehe, yeah, I've heard that my chapters tend to drain people… Sorry, I can't seem to tune down the brilliance. XD Bang the youngling was no one in particular, just a snotty brat. ^^;

**Bluebird Soaring**- Goodness, I'm so happy that you enjoyed the chapter! Writing in Blue and a little touch of Tungy were so fun that it should have been illegal! XD And Sunny may have gotten his first taste of fighting here, but it certainly won't be the last….

**Shizuka Taiyou**- Poor, poor Sunny… There's still so much more he has to go through before he becomes the raging psychopath we all know.

**Bunnylass**- *dies of epic happiness* Gods and angels, woman, your reviews are like gold and sunshine and little fluffy bunnies to me (no pun intended on your penname XD ). The effort and time you must have put into writing that review, not to mention all the ones you reeled off before it. Your love for Bluestreak as Blue really made my day. He was such a sweet little thing to write, so I'm glad that someone took him to heart. Goodness, and all the laughter you had throughout the review- laughing at Wildride getting owned, ratchet's med bay being painted, Sideswipe's little mishaps… Oh, everything you enjoyed made me enjoy everything else so much more! *super hugs*

**Ladyofthedrgns**- Thanks for the welcome back. ^_^ I don't intend to let this story die, but university has a way of eating at my soul and time. . Chapter 7 was a riot to write, and I'm happy you enjoyed reading it. :) Sunstreaker may have gotten his first taste of fighting, but it certainly will not be his last…

**C-Wolfeh**- The twins do have a habit of bringing smiles to peoples' faces, don't they? XD Blue is supposed to be Bluestreak, but Bang is no one specific. He's just a brat. ^^;

**Silveriss**- Hahaha, it's ironic that I fear little kids more than anything, and yet I seem to have writing them down to a tee. ^^; Goodness, you really think I'm developing the twins' characters well? I'm glad. :) It's slow going, but I swear there's a method to my madness.

**Lecidre**- It's funny how everyone thinks I'm so good at writing kids, and yet I'm so terrified of little ones that I can't even stand to be in the same room as them without being uncomfortable. XD Blue really is Bluestreak! He was brought online with full lingual programming, but then he learns to tune it down as he grows up. _Your Silence Will Not Save You_ chronicles his fall back into the talking, into the mech we know in the present. :) I'm so happy that you enjoyed reading the chapter, even the fight at the end. You're too wonderful. :)

**Chloo**- Goodness, I know exactly what your talking! There's not enough fiction (or even canon written stuff) in regards to TF lifestyle or culture! That's one of the big things that I'm trying to flesh out through _Surface of the Sun_, and through the one-shots; I want to give the TF universe a little more reality and wholeness to it, even if the details get a little boring. You have no idea how great it is to find someone who appreciates that! *hugs* Ratchet and Wheeljack.. will probably forever stay in the realm of good friends, but that doesn't mean they haven't had fun together. *wink*

**Pablum**- It's sad that there's not more fanfiction for the twins, but on the bright side, it means that everyone comes to read the works that are out there, including this fic. XD I've tried to be as creative and original with this fic as possible to give Sunny and Sides the most "realistic" kind of past, even if we are dealing with fictional robotic aliens. I'm happy that you've enjoyed the story thus far. :)

**Astrakage**- This story is on the backburner much of the time, so updates are mostly irregular. I hope you continue to enjoy the story, even if it's only updated every bluemoon or so. XD

**Deathcomes4u**- Goodness, you found this story through some fanart on dA? That's amazing! Who did you find it through? You don't have to answer, I'm just curious of the artist. ^^; But thank you so much for the love and kindness you've shown in reading and reviewing this story! I hope you enjoy the future chapters. ^^

**Surface of the Sun  
Chapter 8  
**

Morning in the Centaurie Tetrax Performance and Exhibition Circuit went about in the usual fashion that most mornings in the circuit did. Everyone was up for early practice. A good majority of them were online whether they liked it or not. Some had been coaxed from their berths by the prodding of the twins while others had had Flip send Flicker to grab them by their ankles and drag them out. Now gathered in their main energon-dispensation room, some were coming online fully and others were plotting Flip's death through their exhaustion. A low tide of murmuring morning-talk drifted through the sunny room, keeping everyone awake and yet lulling them back into a light doze at the same time. The bots who sat near the windows kept having their paint caught in the bright sunlight that was amplified through the special cut of the crystal, shattering blinding rainbows across the room.

At a small set of tables in the corner, the aerials were gathered as they usually were, too tight and too loud for it to be comfortable for anyone but them. Squished between wings and arms and legs, the twins indulged in the morning ritual that had come to develop between them and the fliers over the vorns. Cube after cube of energon was laid out in front of them and the aerials would mix different concoctions of elements for the sparklings to try. If Sunstreaker or Sideswipe didn't like it, the aerials drank it anyways. The aerials drank _anything_. Currently, Sunstreaker was enjoying a nice, subtle cube of nitrogen-enriched energon, while Sideswipe had gone for a whacky brew Clouddrift had offered, consisting of powdered uranium, neodymium, and a dash of spicy arsenic.

The door at the far end of the room swung open, admitting Blindside. His sudden entrance caused little stir amongst the rest of the troop. He cast about the room for an astrosecond before homing in on his mate. A few long strides across the room and he was towering over him.

"We need to talk."

The sharpness of his words made Wildride pause, his energon cube tilted to his mouthplates. Trying to gauge his mate, the fireworks-motif mech canted his head and asked, "Do you mean like a talk, or a _talk_ talk?"

Blindside's faceplate creased deeply as he frowned. He clutched a data pad between his fingers, tapping it agitatedly. "_Talk _talk. Now. It's important." To make his intentions even more pressing, he opened their bond and allowed for Wildride to take in the urgency of the request. _Move now, _he transmitted without words. _Move or I'll make a scene. _

Wildride set down his cube. By instinct, he reached back in attempts to soothe what was causing such an irritation. Blindside kept him at bay both physically and ephemerally. Wildride wasn't allowed to soothe. Not now, anyways. Whatever had his mate on edge must have been big, but it nevertheless hurt to be barred access to the other half of his spark. He tried to reach for Blindside's wrist, only to have him jerk out of reach.

"No, don't. We need to talk _now_, so hurry up. Get up!" The agitation in his normally soft voice put Wildride further on edge.

"What happened? Whatever you have to say, you can say it here- we're all family here," Wildride insisted, rising from his seat to lean his hip to the table ledge. A few bots glanced up from their morning energon cubes, and then went back to what they were doing. "I mean, is this about something I did? 'Cause, if it is, I'm sorry, okay?"

Blindside shot a jet of frustrated air through his vents, stepping close to his mate to ram his finger into Wildride's chest plating. "Yes! Yes, it is about something you did, and you can't just apologize for it! It's not something you can just weld temp plating over and say it's all better! You did it and it can't be taken back and it's done so much damage already!"

"I don't understand. You're not making sense. Would you just spit out what you want to say already?" It was hard enough following along with Blindside as he spurted broken sentences, interspersed with a few painful jabs to the chest, but when their bond kept interfering with the words, lacing them with underlying lashes of fear and anxiety, it only made things worse. Wildride's own increasing frustration was doing nothing to assuage Blindside's growing irritation.

While a little squabbling between any pair of bots, or even between two groups of bots, was usually considered part of the morning routine, the urgency of this particular exchange captured the attention of their gathered brethren. Those who lounged in their seats moved to sit a little straighter. Several of them set down their energon cubes, and the ones gathered at the energon dispenser stopped their own lively conversation in order to eavesdrop. Family they may all be, and with all families, one bot's business was everyone else's business. The sudden focus of attention was not lost on the sparkmates, who tensed, sending scorching scowls about the room.

"I'm not discussing this out here. Come on." Blindside immediately grasped a handful of his mate's forearm plating, twisting it in a way that forced Wildride to follow him to the hall whether he wanted to or not. While Wildride's sharp faceplate reflected an odd mix of reluctance and apprehension, he did not resist his sparkmate as he was dragged away.

"Should we be worried?" Flicker asked absently in wake of the two stuntmechs' exit.

Flip didn't even glance up from the news he was scouring through. "No."

A shushed murmur immediately filled the lingering silence. It was not as loud as the usual rambunctious chattering mornings in the coliseum brought, now laced with an underlying air of unease. Normalcy was going to take a few joors to return completely.

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker twittered absently, glancing around to their fellow height-impaired bots. The aerials looked as disturbed over the occurrence as everyone else, but they seemed to realize the importance of getting the twins to think of something else. To distract them, Skyfly kindly offered a half-empty cube of bubbling hydrogen-saturated energon. Clouddrift offered up the cube he'd been sharing with two other aerials- a cube of energon mixed with arsenic, uranium, and plutonium. Sideswipe ignored both cubes completely, staring after his Creator's fixatedly. Sunstreaker glanced at one cube, and then to the almost empty cube his feeding tube was currently hooked up to. He paused politely, then shook his head.

"No thank you," he murmured mutedly.

"Are you sure?" Skyfly pressed, looking to his fellow aerials as if they had the answer for a better distraction. They all stared back with varied looks of helplessness. Sighing, Skyfly let his gaze fall back to the twins. "It's really good, you know."

"I don't feel like any more right now…thanks anyways," Sunstreaker assured dully, pushing the cube away.

Sideswipe nudged his brother's pincer, jerking his chin subtly in a certain direction. _Let's go. Let's follow them, _his optics said. Sunstreaker immediately nodded.

Together, they disconnected their energon feeds and rose from their tiny chairs. Hand-in-pincer, they trotted for the exit with every optic in the room upon them. Just as they turned the corner, someone made a distinctly dry revving noise that drew the twins' attention around, focusing on Flip.

Still perusing the news, the old mech gave a barely discernable shake of his head.

Sunstreaker frowned, taking a step farther into the hall as if to see what the old mech would do.

Flip did nothing but frown. He was only going to give a warning once, and pit on anyone who didn't listen.

Sideswipe stuck out his chin, deciding that he didn't care what the old director wanted. Grabbing his brother, they slipped into the hall and turned in the direction their resonance scanners said their Creators went. They came abreast of the dormitory corridor quickly, and it didn't take a genius to figure out that Wildride and Blindside had holed themselves up in their own quarters.

"You think we should listen in?" Sunstreaker asked, suddenly a little more uneasy about being back here.

Sideswipe scuffed his foot, optics darting to their Creators' door. "I guess… I mean, we came this far. If it gets bad, we'll leave."

It wasn't that they were _afraid_ of what they would hear, they were just nervous. Every sparkling on the surface of Cybertron knew that the worst fights were always held in private.

* * *

Blindside paced the room, throwing narrowed glances at Wildride every second or third turn he passed. "Do you have any idea what this data pad contains?" He waved it for emphasis.

"No, but I'm sure you're going to tell me," Wildride replied evenly, leaning again his side of the berth.

"You're damn right I'm going to tell you. It's another report from the Sector!"

Wildride's attention was immediately caught, his sharp optics flashing as all irritation was replaced by something else. Something scared.

"Yes, that's right, the Youth Sector! I'm glad to see that you're taking that seriously!" Blindside snapped waspishly.

"What do they have to say this time?" Wildride pressed, trying even harder than he had before to keep his temper in check.

"Sunstreaker got in _another_ fight a couple orns ago, this time with _three _younglings. He even got Sideswipe and their little friend Blue involved." Blindside took a sharp turn, pacing back the way he came. As he passed his mate, Wildride reached out for the data pad to peruse it.

"A fight? Is _that_ all?" the fireworks-painted mech sighed with a shake of his head, skimming through the medic's report. "That's nothing but a little bit of rough youngling play, love. Sunny probably just picked it up from everyone tussling around here." He waved a placating hand in the air. "By the way you were going on, I thought you getting after me for something _serious_."

The noise of outrage that came out of Blindside was enough to peel paint. Certainly, the backlash of rage that hit Wildride was enough to throw him off balance.

"You- _you-!"_

Wildride truly looked flabbergasted as a shaking finger was pointed in his faceplate. "Me what?"

"_You irresponsible glitch_!" the star-painted mech howled. "This _is_ serious! We're already treading a thin line home-caring for them. The Council is even more interested than usual in our sparklings because of what they are! They could be taken away at any time!"

"I _know_ that, but-!"

"No buts!" Blindside cut him off with a violent gesture. "You can't just brush this off as Sunstreaker playing rough, or Sunstreaker imitating us wrestling, or some other excuse. I can't buy that slag anymore when things start to escalate like this. He's hurting other younglings, and what's worse is that this is all _your _fault!"

Wildride scrambled up, insult painted clear across his faceplate. "My fault? How could this possibly be _my_ fault?"

"Don't play innocent with me, Wildride! I know what you told Sunstreaker when he first went to the Youth Sector. Sideswipe told me as soon as we got home!"

Wildride's mouthplates dropped open, shocked to hear that one of his precious little sparklings had betrayed his confidence, even if it was only to his mate. He was even more shocked that Blindside had managed to hold on to his anger for so many vorns after the fact. The shooting-star painted mech was verging on a truly epic outburst.

"How could you have been so irresponsible?! They're young! They're impressionable! Telling them something like _always finish a fragging fight_ is probably the _stupidest_ thing you've ever done!"

Harsh hands drew over an exasperated faceplate. "That was a long time ago, Blindside! _Vorns_ even, and they were so young! How could either of them possibly remember me saying a thing like that?" He flapped a hand flippantly, as if to demonstrate how transient his comment was. "It was such a little thing back then. I said it so Sunstreaker would have a little something to lean back on. It shouldn't have made such an impression."

"They're _sparklings_, Wildride! They're programmed to pick things up quickly! If you tell one of them to fight, then he's going to fight! And at such a young age, he's probably already incorporated the notion into his core programming!" Blindside waved a hand to the data pad hanging limply from his mate's hand. "Ratchet has already suggested reprogramming Sunstreaker to fix the violence problem."

At that, Wildride's faceplate transformed from unadulterated insult to stark horror. "Anything but that," he breathed.

Blindside's faceplate clouded, looking away. "I've already been considering it. I sent a reply before I came to you asking for Ratchet's formal proposal of the treatment-."

Wildride went rigid, optics near white with the mere prospect. "I can't believe you went over my head like that!

"It wasn't going over your head. It was… I just want to see what Ratchet wants to do."

A harsh snort rattled from Wildride. "You should have talked to me if you were even _considering_ a procedure like that!"

"I only have their best interests in mind-."

"_And you don't think I do?!" _The rage Wildride suddenly unleashed was tenfold that of his mate's. A neural wire had been struck. "Don't you remember what they did to me when _I_ was a youngling?!"

"Of course I do-!"

"They _reprogrammed_ me, Blindside!"

"It was only to fix your lisp-."

"But it took away a piece of who I was!"

Blindside pursed his mouthplates. Like most of the troop, not to mention most transformers on the planet, he generally failed to understand why Wildride got so worked up over reprogramming little ones, though Blindside was among those who tried hardest to understand. Nevertheless, he couldn't help but pointing out the obvious. "It was only a little lisp, Wildride. Nothing life-altering."

Wildride flung his arms out, looking wilder with each passing moment. "You're wrong about that! You don't get it, not like I do. When you're that age, you don't have enough personality programming to fill in for what's been changed! They fixed my stupid lisp, but they also changed the part of me that _learned_ that lisp. It wasn't just the way I talked, it was a part of who I was, and they just went into my head and changed it! If you let Ratchet reprogram Sunstreaker, it will take away a part of him like it did to me!"

Blindside crossed his arms over his chest "Medics do it all the time. It's the most common, routine procedure a medic can do. The Council wouldn't allow it if there was a chance of damage to the individual. I've been reprogrammed, and so has everyone else in the troop after a fall. Data gets corrupted and needs to be re-sequenced, viruses get in, or things just need to be changed up for the better. Everyone gets reprogrammed at least once in their life."

"That's fine! _We're_ adults; _we_ have plenty of backup programming to make up for a little code splicing, but I won't let someone as young as Sunstreaker go through what I did! It's too much for someone who's barely a fraction of our age!" He ran his hands over his faceplate, and then ended up pulling at the long metal frills that jutted from the sides of his head. "Primus, I can't believe you would even _think _of doing something like that! You _know_ how I feel about reprogramming young ones!"

"If we agree to have it done, it would be for the best-."

Wildride snarled. "And whatever happened to loving him just the way he was? Did that only count for his outsides? As soon as little Sunstreaker gets a bit of bite in him, the way he is inside isn't good enough anymore?"

Blindside's optics went wide, looking as if he had just been slapped. "I can't believe you just said that."

Wildride wasn't about to back down, even if he knew he overstepped a boundary. "What's the matter? Can't face the truth?"

"That's complete slag, Wildride, and you know it! I love Sunstreaker and Sideswipe more than anything, no matter how they are on the inside or outside. I merely considered the reprogramming option for Sunstreaker's benefit. I don't want him to suffer in the future because of some little mistake in the past!"

"Reprogramming or, Primus forbid, deletion, is the _last_ thing we should ever be considering!" He released his frills, spinning away when he was unable to look at his mate any longer. "I love Sunstreaker just the way he is! He and Sideswipe are absolutely _perfect_, flaws and all! If you take that away from them, who will they be?"

"They'd still be our sparklings!" Blindside exclaimed.

"Yes, but they wouldn't be the _same_ sparklings!" Wildride roared back. "Even if you just reprogrammed one, you know it would affect the other. They're just like us; they share a bond. What if someone were to do that to me now? Not some dinky little reprogramming, but completely took the fight out of me. You'd feel horrible, wouldn't you? The spark would still be me, but the processor wouldn't. I wouldn't be _me_ anymore. You'd be forced to love someone you didn't even know! Think of what that would do to Sideswipe- it would be worse! You know how they feel about each other! You'd be tearing them apart!"

Blindside flailed for a countermand. Instead, he managed only to sputter, "You're blowing this all out of proportion!"

"Or maybe you're just not seeing the big picture!" Wildride's fist came down harder than he meant on the desktop he passed, imprinting a dent of his fist in the surface.

Blindside turned stony in the face of the violence, unafraid of Wildride's gestures but not liking them at all. "This has already blown way out of proportion." He pressed his mouthplates together, trying to grasp at calmness. "I don't know why I thought I could have a mature conversation with you. You always blow things up without thinking. You're so damn hot-headed. Primus, I should have gone to Flip about this before I came to you."

The words hit home, striking a note in Wildride's spark that was glacial compared to the heat of anger. "You'd go to our fragging director before you'd come to your own sparkmate?"

"At least our 'fragging director' has a head on his shoulders that he actually uses once in a while," Blindside growled.

"But you share your spark with me!" Wildride exclaimed.

Blindside jerked his hand to his chassis, pausing for only a moment before the words fell from his mouthplates. "Then maybe that was my mistake."

Wildride looked as if he had been punched. No, worse. It looked as if he had been gutted. His optics flickered, shuttered, and he looked away. His voice was frighteningly distant when he next spoke. "Is that how you really feel about me? About us? We're a mistake?"

Blindside opened his mouthplates, about to say something, and then closed them and looked away.

Wildride shook his head, all the fight now drained out of him. "I'm just going to go."

Blinside's optics flashed. "Wildride-."

"Don't. I can't stand looking at you right now, and I bet you sure don't want me flaunting your Primus-damned fragging _mistake_ in your faceplate." He spun on his heel, slamming his fist into the wall as he waited for the door to open, and then breezed past his own sparklings without seeing them, too intent on escaping to focus on anything else.

"Wildride, wait-!"

"Frag you, Blindside. I'm out of here." He transformed and burned out of the corridor far faster than he should have, leaving angry black scars on the floor.

Blindside watched the retreat as if frozen in place. He too was blind to the little optics staring up in horror at him from the floor.

When the door hissed closed, he sat immobile on his berth for a long time, trying to wrap his mind around what just happened. When his spark wavered in its sparkcase, he startled from his daze, gasped a shaky sob, and then laid himself down to cry. What a mess he had made of things.


	14. Chapter 9

**Slice of Cheese**- All couples end up having a bad fight once in a while. Supposedly it's all part of loving each other. ^^; Thanks for the well wishes on the success of this story! Now if only others would be as kind and start reviewing as well… *stares at everyone else*

**Deathcomes4u**- Thanks so much for the review! :) lol~ FunkyFish is a good friend of mine. Her art always blows me away when she posts something- it's like she's the official artist for _Surface of the Sun_. XD All the work she's done is brilliant!

**Goldenqueemofthecove**- Awww, thanks~ I'm happy that the chapter was able to elicit such an emotional response. :)

**FunkyFish1991**- Oh, my dear, dear Fishy friend, how I adore you and your reviews. *fawns over you* I can't believe you're stilling reading this story even when you don't give a damn about the fandom! XD Reading that made my day! *ultimate love* And I totally laughed when you mentioned looking up what neodymium was on the net. You wanna know a secret about that? I didn't even know it was a translation of 'twin'! XD I selected it because the name sounded cool! But now that I looked it up, I'm blown away by the coincidence! *mind is totally blown* Thanks so much for your approval of where I ended the chapter. It was a sudden burst of inspiration to do so. You know me, loving to let my readers squirm. :) Of course, with this chapter ends the squirming, so I'll just have to come up with another squirm-tastic ploy, now won't I? *evil grin*

**Player3**- Oh wow, thanks for siding with Blindside. He really does have the twins' best interests at spark, and he's only going by what he knows. Thank you so much for the review. ^^

**Bluebird Soaring**- Last chapter certainly was a rollercoaster ride, wasn't it? It even started to worry me as I was writing it. Evening will happen as it's supposed to, though, for better or for worse…

**DitzyMusicLover**- Um, well, thanks anyways.^^

**Shizuka Taiyou**- *nods* Wildride may not seem like a wise one, but he generally is.

**Balrog Roike**- You raise some fine points there, my dear. You're so very insightful and quite opinionated over the fictional reality of the Cybertronians, most notably their young. I suppose my dislike for kids influences my writing in respect to the raising of sparklings and youngling; they're dealt with in such aloof manners because I, myself, have a difficult time reconciling myself with young ones. But, the methods proposed in the chapter are not as heavy-handed as they seem (I'm not a complete monster ;_; )- the young ones in question are active participants in the decision making process. Just like the children of Earth, kids have a mind to make up for themselves, even if parents tend to override them. Kids only have as much freedom as their parents allow. ^^;

**C-Wolfeh**- No, no, my dear. This certainly isn't the end by a long shot. There's so many thrills and spills in store for the story. :)

**Witch08- **Oh dear, thanks so much, though sorry I made you cry, I'm afraid the only comfort I can give you at the moment is that things will turn out as they are supposed to, for better or for worse. ^^;

Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed. I'm humbled an honoured by the kindness and love you've shown. A word to the wise to all the ghost-readers out there, a little bit of appreciation for all the hard work a writer puts into their chapters would be much loved. Most of you say 'thank you' when someone does something nice for you, or gives you something, or works their ass off to get something done in real life, so, you know, throwing a bone my way wouldn't go amiss.

**Surface of the Sun  
Chapter 9**

Sunstreaker stared down at his pincers without truly seeing them. Sideswipe stared in a similar daze, though his optics were fixated in the direction Wildride had zoomed off in. They didn't know how long they sat there, nor did it really matter to them. At some point, they gravitated to their other half and simply wrapped their arms around the other. Sideswipe quivered minutely while Sunstreaker felt leaden, too heavy and dull to dare moving.

Easing his back against the shaded doorway they crouched in, Sunstreaker dragged Sideswipe close. Compared the squeaky sobbing Sideswipe was making, his twin was silent. He didn't feel anything but dull, even though he knew he should have felt something. Wasn't it his processor that his Creators were fighting over? The medics wanted to reprogram him, not Sideswipe. He should feel something more than just heavy and empty at the same time- shouldn't he be scared, or furious, or horrified, or _something?_ But it was Sideswipe who was absorbing it all, trembling, releasing gasping sobs every once in a while when he couldn't contain the noises any longer. Sunstreaker could feel how confused his brother was, and it made his spark ache even more.

Through their Creators' door, they could hear Blindside's muffled sobbing. It hurt the twins to know their Creator was crying, to think that Blindside was hurt and there was nothing that either of them could do for him. Even if the shooting star-painted mech was the one who had been arguing to have Sunstreaker reprogrammed, they felt no spite for him. It was impossible to feel anything but blind love for him. The troop was their family, it was everything the twins knew, and their Creators', both Blindside and Wildride, were their whole worlds.

"Wildride's coming back, isn't he?" Sideswipe asked shakily, peeling his faceplate away from the notch between his brother's neck and shoulder to peer up with too-bright optics.

Sunstreaker shrugged. "I don't know… they sounded pretty mad at each other…"

"I want Wildride to come back right now and say he's sorry," Sideswipe mumbled.

"Blindside would have to say sorry, too," Sunstreaker intoned lowly.

Sideswipe's little red head nodded. "Yeah, they have to say sorry to each other." He sniffled. "But that's only _if_ Wildride comes back."

"Yeah, _if_." Sunstreaker sighed. He couldn't see the future, so there was no way to tell if their wayward Creator was going to come back or not. Wildride had sounded so _angry_. Almost as angry as he looked on the old recordings they'd seen of the orn they had fallen down the lift shaft and Wildride had thought they were dead. By the looks of things, and by the way they could still hear Blindside crying, the chances that they would see Wildride again didn't look too great.

A soft sigh at the end of the hallway had them looking up, only to discover that Flip had found them.

"Flip?" Sunstreaker murmured.

The old director nodded, staring. The staring wasn't new, but the way he stared… it made them feel small. He wasn't mad. He wasn't upset. He didn't even look disappointed. No, the director only stared with optics too old and too wise for the twins to understand. What made them feel small was the fact that he had told them not to follow and they didn't listen, and now here he was standing in the aftermath. He had tried to spare them the pain, and they had ignored him.

Sideswipe sniffed, pushing away from his brother. "You knew this was going to happen, didn't you?" he murmured, watching the mossy-green mech. There wasn't really a tone of accusation in his voice; he was just stating a fact.

Flip tipped his head ever so slightly to the left, neither confirming nor denying.

"You knew and you could have stopped this, but you didn't," the red sparkling continued.

Still, the old mech said nothing. He merely stared with old, old optics, watching them in a way that made their plating prickle when they thought about what he could _really_ see. They wished the director would blink, but he didn't.

"Why didn't you stop this, Flip? Wildride's gone and he looked like he was never coming back!" Sideswipe said, voice wavering.

Finally, Flip did something. Still saying nothing, the old director's faceplate curved into an expression that couldn't quite be called a smile, but couldn't be called a frown either. With a tilt of his head, he turned and walked away. Looking to each other, the twins knew instinctually that this was a bid to follow the old mech. They scrambled to their feet and trotted off down the hall, letting Blindside's sobbing be muffled by distance. They were guided into the narrow annexed hallway that lead to Flip's private quarters, the old mech already waiting for them at the end with the door open. Needing no more invitation than that, the twins slinked into the dark apartments warily.

Behind them, they heard the hiss of the doors closing, and then the creaking footsteps of the director. He stepped over them easily, choosing his favourite chair to ease into. As it had always been, Flip's apartments were strange, darker than what it should have been when the lights were on, quieter than what was natural even when the walls weren't that thin, and there was always a sense of being watched even when you knew Flip was supposed to be the only bot there. Staying close together, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker inched their way over to the low table they usually sat on when invited into the director's quarters, taking the ladder up the side. When they finally settled in front of the old mech, neither quite able to look their director in the optic, Flip took a deep drag of air and said,

"You should have listened to me."

He didn't admonish them. He wasn't even sharp. He said it in the same fashion that one would comment on the weather. Nonetheless, the twins flinched.

"_We know_," they sighed in unison. "We're sorry."

"You've done nothing wrong, so don't apologize. I simply would have preferred you stayed ignorant of the matter." He leaned forward, bracing his elbows against his knees and resting his chin against his laced fingers. "But what's done is done, isn't it? Short of deleting the experience, there is little anyone can do now."

The twins flinched at the mentioning of deletion.

"You knew this was going to happened, didn't you?" Sideswipe asked. "That's why you didn't want us to follow."

"Of course I never wanted you two to hear this. I would have to be sparkless to want otherwise," Flip said, frowning minutely. His evasion of the first question was not lost on the red sparkling.

Sideswipe pursed his mouthplates, sniffing determinedly. "But you _knew_, didn't you? You _knew_ they were going to fight."

Sunstreaker elbowed his brother. "Stop it, Sides," he grumbled. This was no time for Sideswipe to be trying to get Flip to admit he could "see the future" or some slag like that. Ever since Flip had collected them from that strange place under the city so many vorns ago, Sideswipe had had it in his mind that the mech could do the impossible. Well, more impossible than what was normal for Flip.

Flip leaned closer, a draft of warm air sighing across their trembling plating. "This fight was a long time coming. We all knew it was coming."

"The whole troop knew?" Sideswipe wondered, trying to hide his disappointment. One of these orns, he'd get Flip to admit that he could see more than ghosts. The old director wasn't perfect- he was bound to slip up some time.

"Of course, dearspark," Flip said. "We've done our best to keep this off your shoulders for as long as we could, but we've all known that things have been tense between your Creators."

"Why wouldn't you tell us?" Sunstreaker asked.

"Adult matters are adult matters. There was no need to upset you with them." Such a nonchalant answer. Such a _Flip _kind of answer.

"And now Wildride is gone," the brown sparkling said, bowing his head. His pinchers clenched and unclenched in his lap. "This is _my_ fault, isn't it?"

"What makes you say that?" Flip asked, tilting his head.

"The message that Blindside got from Ratchet today… it was about me fighting at the Youth Sectors," Sunstreaker said quietly, staring determinedly into his lap.

"You do seem to make a habit of it whenever you're there," the old mech intoned lightly.

Sunstreaker cringed. "I know, I know…"

"It's not his fault, though!" Sideswipe cried. "There's a bunch of younglings that like to pick on him! Sunstreaker's just defending himself!"

Flip quirked an optic ridge at the red twin. "And when you jump into the fights, are you just defending yourself as well?"

Sideswipe twittered stubbornly. "No, I'm defending my brother."

"And what of dragging your friends into these fights? What of your little friend Blue? I'm sure he doesn't appreciate it when you fight with others."

Sunstreaker's optics flashed. "I didn't mean to drag him in. Sometimes… sometimes he just gets caught up in it all." Again, his pincers clenched.

"Life does have a way of getting out of hand on us, doesn't it?" Flip said airily.

"You're not helping, Flip," Sideswipe grumped.

By Flip's expression, he wasn't particularly interested in helping the situation. Of course, he wasn't interested in making it worse either. He was just being Flip, which was frustrating enough as it was.

Sunstreaker sighed. "Ratchet wants to make me stop fighting by reprogramming me, and Blindside thinks it's a good idea."

"But Wildride _doesn't_," Sideswipe stated, pursing his mouthplates.

Flip leaned away, settling back against his chair. "Do _you_ think it's a good idea?"

Tiny optics darted up to the old director, then down again. Sunstreaker shrugged unsurely. "I don't know… I mean, it's such a simple thing. Everyone in the troop has had it done, but the way Wildride was going on about it- I don't know what to think." He glanced to his brother, leaning against Sideswipe's comforting red shoulder. "Wildride got so upset when Blindside mentioned reprogramming me."

"It wouldn't be reprogramming all of you, dearspark," Flip said lowly. "The only part that Ratchet would touch is your aggression response. He'd either reroute it or dampen it."

Sideswipe wrapped his arm around Sunstreaker's shoulders as he felt him shiver. "I don't want anyone to do anything to Sunstreaker's head. He's fine just the way he is."

"No I'm not," the brown sparkling sighed. "If I was fine just the way I am, Blindside and Wildride wouldn't have gotten in a fight, Wildride wouldn't have left, Blindside wouldn't be so sad, and we wouldn't be here."

Sideswiped blinked. "Oh yeah…"

Flip canted his head. "You make it sound as if Wildride will never be back."

The twins shuddered once more.

"He was _mad_, Flip. Madder than the maddest I've ever seen him," Sunstreaker said. "When he left, it really looked like he wasn't coming back." His head bowed, but Sideswipe leaned close and murmured, _"It's not all your fault, though. Don't blame yourself. It's not your fault at all!"_ Sunstreaker was comforted very little by the words.

To their ultimate shock, Flip actually quirked one of his strange, knowing half-smiles. Sideswipe took offense, bristling instantly.

"It isn't funny!" he yelled.

"I never said it was," the old director said.

"Then don't smile!"

Flip's smile did not disappear, but he did shake his head. "How about we solve this little puzzle one problem at a time? Does that sound all right to you two?"

Puzzled, the twins wrinkled their faceplates.

Flip chuckled, curling a long, creaky finger beneath Sunstreaker's chin. "You are old enough to have a say in what happens to you. If you don't want to be reprogrammed, they can't force it on you. Not entirely."

Sunstreaker frowned. "But what about me getting into fights? Blindside said that fighting is probably already part of my core programming…"

"Your core programming is still only programming, dear one. No matter what's up here," Flip touched the top of Sunstreaker's head, "it will never be able to touch what's in here." That gentle finger moved to Sunstreaker's chest, over his spark. "You will always have a choice. There are so many other paths for you to choose." For a moment, the old director seemed as if he was pleading with Sunstreaker. "You don't have to get into fights if you don't want to," he murmured lowly. As soon as that strange, pleading tone came, it was gone, like it had never been there. Flip's faceplate betrayed nothing now, as enigmatic as ever.

The simple truth of the matter dawned on Sunstreaker with the brightness of dawn cresting the horizon. "I can choose not to fight, can't I?"

Flip bowed his mossy-green head. "We all have choices, dearspark."

Sideswipe appeared to catch on, his hand shooting out to grasp his brother's pincer. "Hey, hey, if you choose not to fight, they can't reprogram you! They'll have no reason to! You don't have to fight at all!"

"But what about the other younglings- the ones that pick fights with me?" Sunstreaker worried, looking from his brother to the director.

"You have more friends than enemies in the Youth Sector. Use that to your advantage," Flip said. "If the others keep giving you problems, you just let us know, and us older bots will take care of things." He even gave them a little wink that made them feel much better.

"So… it's as easy as that? Even if my head says fight, I can listen to my spark and I won't fight?" Sunstreaker asked hopefully.

"Some would say it's a little more complicated than that, but yes, so long as you listen to your spark, you'll be good," Flip assured quietly.

"Then I promise to always listen to my spark and never fight again," Sunstreaker said solemnly.

"I promise, too," Sideswipe said quickly.

"Good. That's good, young ones." Flip nodded slowly, stroking them both over their heads.

With one problem solved, Sideswipe looked eager to solve their other problem. He turned his expectant faceplate up to the mossy-green mech. "Are you going to make Wildride come back now?"

Flip apparently found that funny. At least, he chuckled over it, but chuckling didn't always mean what bots thought it meant with Flip. "I wouldn't need to."

"But he's gone!" Sideswipe exclaimed.

"For how long, though?" Flip chuckled. "It's only a matter of time before he comes back." He settled even more comfortably into his seat, motioning for the twins to get comfortable as well. Most of the tension had already leaked from their frames, so upon the director's bid, they got comfy for the inevitable story they sensed coming. "Did you know that Wildride used to run away from here all time when he was young?"

The twins wrinkled their faceplates. It was hard enough picturing their Creator as "young", but even harder picturing him running away. Wildride was as much a part of the coliseum as the paint was. Everyone in the troop was like that. Like permanent fixtures in the place.

"Why did he run away?" Sunstreaker wondered quietly.

Flip waved a nonchalant hand in the air. "Because he didn't want to be trapped."

"Trapped?" the little brown sparkling queried.

"Yes. You see, the coliseum was all Wildride knew and he didn't want to end up living the rest of his life trapped inside these walls as a puppet for other bots' delights. He left the moment he reformatted into his first adult frame. Didn't even spare us a second glance or a night to celebrate his reformatting- just up and bolted." Flip paused to shake his head amusedly. "Ended up travelling all over the planet, sent us holopics from all sorts of places. He came back, though."

"He did?" Sideswipe chirped hopefully.

"Of course, when he ran out of credits," Flip informed. "And as soon as he got through his apprenticeship here to be a full-fledged stuntment, he ran away again. He made it all the way to Monoluna before he came back." A creaking hand waved in the air once more. "One time he even ran away to a circuit in Kaon and stayed there for a few vorns. He's run away so many times that it's not even worth counting anymore."

"Why does he run?" Sideswipe asked. "I know you said he doesn't want to be trapped, but _why run_? Why not walk out, or wander around, or something…"

"Because his spark moves faster than his head does," Flip replied fondly. "It tells him to run, fling himself headfirst into the wind, and rarely does he ever think before he does something. That's just who he is. But no matter where he went or how far he ran, he'd always come back eventually. If not for the circuit, then for Blindside."

Sunstreaker wrapped his arms around his legs, hugging them close to his chassis. "That doesn't mean he's going to come back this time."

"I had that same fear the first few times he disappeared, yet he always followed his spark back. The orn he sparkbonded with Blindside was the last orn I ever carried that fear."

"Why?" Sunstreaker asked, even a tad suspicious about it.

"What's so important about Wildride being bonded to Blindside?" Sideswipe asked, mouthplates pursed.

Flip blinked, shaking his head. "Honestly, dearsparks, they say you two are so much like a pair of sparkmates. I would think you could imagine why Wildride would never leave."

Sideswipe looked to Sunstreaker, and Sunstreaker looked to Sideswipe, and they both canted their heads. It had never really occurred to them before what it must feel like for their Creators to be bonded. What the twins had was something they had been created with, not something they chose. Even if they never meant to, what they shared through their bond had been taken for granted. They had never known what it was like not to be connected to someone else; they had no idea where to start when it came to bots who shared their sparks of their own freewill. Was the connection the same? Different? If bots could choose to bond with another instead of being made that way, could they choose to _unbond _as well?

"So many questions in those little optics," Flip murmured, amused and yet neutral.

"I don't get it, Flip," Sunstreaker grumbled, frowning. "Wildride and Blindside… can they really be like us? The connection can't be as strong- I mean-," he looked to Sideswipe, held out his pincer, and automatically Sideswipe's hand was there to meet him in midair. "-we're from the same spark. Me and Sides aren't just two bots who make our sparks one-."

"We were one spark made into two," Sideswipe finished, an identical expression of intense concentration on his faceplate. "Ratchet and Jetfire and all those other medics and researchers all said it; there's nothing like us on the planet."

Flip focused on their connected hands, a contemplative frown pulling at his mouthplates. "You're right, your origins are certainly unique," he admitted. "However, you shouldn't put yourself above the rest because of it."

The director's tone was enough to make the twins smartly drop their connected limbs.

Flip continued regardless. "I have never been bonded to another in my life, but I have lived far longer than either of you can ever comprehend. I have lived long enough to understand a great many things in this universe. I have seen some of the greatest acts of love-," _and the greatest acts of hatred, _his shadowed optics said, "- and there are few greater than that of sparkbonding."

He spoke with such reverence that an involuntary shiver ran down the twins' backs.

The director placed his hand to the center of his chest, above a spark that was older than anything else the twins knew. "Our sparks are the concentrated essence of our accumulated experiences, our memories, our personalities, hopes, and desires… Everything that we are is contained in the energy of our sparks. We may outlive our frames a thousand times, but so long as our sparks pulse, we live. To share that integral part of ourselves with another is the greatest decision any Cybertronian can make."

"A sparkbond can't be broken, can it?" Sunstreaker wondered quietly. He knew the answer even as he asked the question. Instinctually he knew that if Sideswipe was no longer a part of him, and he was no longer a part of Sideswipe, neither would exist.

Flip's optics turned solemn, laden with eons of knowledge. "No force on Cybertron can break it, not even death."

There was nothing else for the twins to do but nod, knowing intrinsically that their old director spoke the truth.

"There is never one without the other," Flip continued softly. "Wildride and Blindside, even Thrillride and Blaze, _any_ bonded pair; they are as much a part of each other as you two are. No matter where Wildride goes, how far he runs, he will always come back. It is deep, unconditional, abiding, immortal love that ensures that sparkmates will always be together. Once they bond, the choice is made. For as long as they live, there will never be another."

"They're like us, then," Sunstreaker concluded. "Wildride and Blindside won't leave each other because they love each other more than anything. Like me and Sideswipe."

"You're catching on," Flip murmured, curving a half-smile.

"So it's just a matter of time before he comes back, huh?" Sideswipe sighed, suddenly very relieved.

"I would say so. In the mean time…" He turned his gaze to the doors, which slid open accordingly. Thrillride and a few of her fellow lightcycles stood there, peering in nervously.

"You called?" Thrillride asked.

Flip eased to his feet with an expansive groan, scooping up the twins. "Yes, I want you to take these two and thoroughly distract them for the orn. Do what you do best, my dear." They were deposited on their feet in front of Thrillride, who watched Flip pass them by without even glancing back.

With Flip gone, Thrillride blinked and glanced down at her favourite pair of twins on the whole planet. "Are you two alright?" she asked cautiously.

"Yeah, we're okay," Sideswipe said, patting Thrillride's hand like she was the one who needed comforting. "Flip… helped us understand a few things."

* * *

It had been a long, hard orn of practice for poor Flicker. The silence the front ramp of the coliseum was serving as his quiet spot for the evening as he downed a strong cube of high-grade. The coolness of the coming evening was a balm against his sore plating.

Having served all orn long as a launching pad for the majority of the stunts his brethren were practicing, he was understandably feeling a little sore and run over. He was also sporting a particularly bad headache this evening thanks to the twins. He loved the little imps, no doubt about that, it was only… well, every time they were around, Flicker usually ended up having his head run over repeatedly. For some reason, the twins seemed to think it was funny when everyone drove over his head. Sure, Flicker's head was reinforced to withstand the abuse, but there were only so many times Flashdance could dance on his cranium before he started to get a headache.

Next to him, Blaze sat with his optics squinted against the glare of light reflecting off of Flicker's fluorescent yellow paint. The pyrotechnics director looked deceptively contemplative as he stared out at the cityscape. In truth, he simply looked that way to cover up the discomfort he was under from a botched fire-breathing stunt a joor prior. His mouthplates were blackened around the seams where the flames from the flash fire had caught him. It wasn't the worse accident that could have happened, but healing was going to be a glitch.

"Some orn we're having, huh?" Flicker intoned absently.

Blaze nodded, taking a sip from his energon cube, and then grimacing as it went down. "Not one of our best," he grated out, voice rough from fire damage.

"Twins held up well, all things considered," Flicker said, downing a large gulp of his high-grade, appreciating the buzz it spread through his systems.

"It was only a matter of time before things came to a head," Blaze sighed roughly. A bit of ash fell from his mouthplates. "Wildride was due for a run out, anyways. Hasn't pulled one since Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were created."

"Yeah, but I would have thought… well, you know- would'a thought the twins would have taken the fight a little harder." A blinding-yellow shoulder shrugged awkwardly, flashing in the dying light.

The flame-painted mech was quiet for a moment, and then said, "Thrillride mentioned that they had been with Flip earlier." He coughed quietly to clear his vents, a plume of smoke puffing from between his mouthplates, and then out from between the slates in his neck, and then out from the vents in his sides.

"Ah, that explains it, then," Flicker said, nodding.

They sat for a while longer, until their distant star fell below the towering city skyline, and then fell completely below the far off horizon. Twilight fell to darkness, but the city was far from recharging. Centaurie Tetrax was still a lifeline of noise and light, the sound of commuters making their way through gleaming transport ways carrying on the gentle evening breeze. Everywhere they looked- the sights, the smells, the feelings it all stirred- it was their _home_. Centaurie Tetrax was the city they had been raised in, and it was the city their sparks would probably extinguish in.

A few tourists, travellers from Polyhex by the looks of their frames, wandered by gates at the bottom of the ramp. They leaned in to check the listed show times on the bulletin, and then spotted the stuntmechs sitting at the front entrance. Predictably, they all squealed in excitement. When they waved excitedly, Flicker and Blaze forced smiles on their faceplates and waved back. As soon as they were gone, the stuntmechs sighed and sagged tiredly.

Flickered finished off the last half of his high-grade in one go, gulping it back like his life depended on it. As the last drops of it went down, its numbing balm finally dulled his headache. Beside him, Blaze still warily sipped his diluted energon, grimacing as it stung all the way down. They were grateful to sink into a companionable silence. Above the usual night-song of the city came the familiar click of their gate being unlocked, and then the long creak of it being opened. Two sets of optics flashed, peering up curiously.

"Look who's back," Blaze rasped, smirking.

Wildride's distinct paintjob made it impossible for him not to be recognized, even in the low light. The decorative metal frills that jutted from either side of his head were lowered sheepishly as he made his way up the ramp towards them.

"How far did you make it this time?" Flicker asked, optic ridge quirked.

Wildride shrugged, not quite able to meet either of his brothers' gazes. "Spent the orn in the Rio District."

Flicker and Blaze exchanged knowing looks, and then Flicker enquired, "At the pleasure house on mid-level?"

The fireworks painted mech sighed, nodding. "Yes, talking to the escorts there."

The Rio District pleasure house was a favourite gathering place for the stuntmechs. It was a fun place to relax outside the coliseum, or party hard if they so chose. They could mingle with fans if they wanted, or indulge in a little good-natured pampering by the escorts there. The stuntmechs were such frequent visitors there that all the escorts knew them by designation, and in turn, all the stuntmechs knew the escorts as well. The media-drones liked to dub the place the unofficial hangout for the Centaurie Tetrax performers.

"I hope they talked some sense into you," Blaze intoned wryly.

Wildride pursed his mouthplates, shifting from one foot to the other. "Something like that. They let me stay for the orn to calm down, then they made me leave." He glanced up, over the high domes of their colourful home. "So… was Blindside…?"

"In practice? Yeah," Flicker informed curtly.

"How was he?" Wildride enquired quietly.

"As well as can be expected," the towering mech replied.

Wildride nodded solemnly. "And the twins?"

"Were fine, but are probably anxious to see you home."

The stuntmech nodded, still shifting from foot to foot. He looked to be at a loss for words. Taking a deep drag of air, he looked his stunt-brethren in the optics and announced, "I'm an aft."

Flicker and Blaze glanced at each other, and then back to Wildride.

"We know," Blaze grunted. He eased up with a groan, stepping aside to allow his brother access to the entrance door. "You might want to go try that half-aft attempt of an apology on Blindside, though."

"Right, okay…" He slid past them, squeezing into the door.

* * *

Blindside shot up from his crouch, scattering the two lightcycles poised on his back for a fancy flip. They landed gracefully without incident despite their sudden ejection, watching as the shooting star-painted stuntmech transformed and took off like a shot.

"Blindside, we weren't done our set!" Flashdance yelled after him, only to be smacked about his knees. "Hey! Hey, watch it, femme!" He danced out of reach.

"Wildride's back," Thrillride hissed, one hand still raised in case Flashdance needed another smack.

Drawn like a magnet through the corridors, Blindside let his spark drag him in the right direction. He wasn't taken far, just into the main arena where he came skidding to a desperate halt as a familiar alt mode skidded to a mirrored halt in front of him. They transformed simultaneously, only to find that they were frozen to the spot.

Wildride opened his mouthplates a few times, searching for words. Only a low whine of frustration came out. He had too many things to say to his mate, and no idea where to begin.

Blindside laid his hand to his chassis, over his spark. He knew exactly what he wanted to say. "I never should have said what I said," he stated firmly. Solemnly apologetic even as his frame trembled minutely.

Wildride started, optics wide. "Wait, no-."

Blindside flapped his hand, demanding to finish. "Wildride, what I said about sparkbonding to you being a mistake- it was a horrible thing to say. I didn't mean it. I wish I could take it back." He closed his optics, shaking his head. "I'm sorry."

"No, no, no, you got it wrong." Spurred to movement, Wildride dashed across the arena to wrap his arms around his mate, tight and possessive. "Don't apologize, love. I was an aft- a big aft."

"Yes, you were," Blindside pouted stubbornly.

Wildride sighed. "I had no right to get so mad at you and say some of the things I said." He rubbed his faceplate against his mate's, taking in every detail that he had missed throughout the orn. "You were right. I was blowing everything out of proportion. I'm the one who should be sorry. I let my temper get the best of me."

A small, rueful laugh drifted from Blindside as he revelled in the closeness of his mate. He pressed into the warmth of Wildride's frame, listening to the deep, fluid candescence of his voice. "You do that from time to time." He didn't bother to disguise the intended barb in the statement. Wildride accordingly flinched, nodding.

"I know, I know…" He took a wavering drag of air in through his intakes, savouring the scent of his sparkmate in the air- warm metal, the distinct sweetness of the energy of his spark. Primus, there was nothing better on the planet than Blindside's sweet little spark. "I'm so, so, so damn sorry."

"We'll both be sorry, then," Blindside sighed quietly, nuzzling his head beneath his mate's chin. "We both said things that shouldn't have been said."

"Primus, we're a sorry pair," Wildride groaned, rocking gently, his arms tightening around his mate with no intention of letting go.

"Maybe, but that's okay."

Wildride tiltedhis head back to quirk an optic ridge. "It's okay?"

"Yeah, because I love you anyways." Blindside shuttered his optics, wanting nothing more than to burrow into Wildride's frame and never some out. It had been pit all orn trying to concentrate without him. Training had seemed to _wrong_ without the usual flash of fireworks paint zipping around the room. The coliseum had felt so much less alive without Wildride's vivid spark brightening the halls. Even a few joors absence had been horrible, especially with the fight resting heavy on their sparks.

Wildride grinned a handsome smile, using his hands to frame Blindside's faceplate. "I love you too. You know I love you, more than anything. The last thing I would ever want is to hurt you." His faceplate dipped down, pressing forehead to forehead with Blindside. His hands trembled with the strength of the emotion taking him. His spark actually _hurt_ as it pulsed hotly in its case. "Primus, I love you so much it hurts."

Gentle hands hooked determinedly into Wildride's front, keeping him securely against Blindside. He hummed gently, nodding as he listened to his mate speak. Even if he wanted to be stubborn, even if he didn't want to believe a word coming from the mech's vocalizer, he didn't have that option; he knew everything he needed to know from the mech's spark, knew it inside and out, and there was no denying the depth and breadth and power of Wildride's love.

"I still don't like the idea of Sunstreaker being reprogrammed, though," Wildride murmured.

Blindside nodded slowly. "We'll figure something out, I swear. I was too hasty in suggesting it, especially knowing your feelings. He doesn't have to be reprogrammed. We can figure something else out."

"Thank you," the mech sighed, the last of the tension in his frame easing out.

The shooting start-painted mech hummed again, blowing a gentle jet of warm air up and over Wildride's faceplate. A fuzzy warmth of contentment flooded them. They weren't angry anymore. They weren't even tense with each other. There was just a sense of deep, abiding _love_.

"I missed you all orn," Blindside admitted softly.

"You knew I'd come back," Wildride chuckled, now weaving his arms around his mate, stroking long fingers beneath the metal, over tingling circuits.

"Didn't stop me from missing you," Blindside breath, his voice dropping even lower. "The coliseum wasn't homw without you." The heat between them grew, laced with a playfulness that they knew well. He couldn't help but smile when he heard and felt the unmistakable shifting and reforming of Wildride's back, the familiar growl of his jetpack powering up.

"How about we get reacquainted, then?" he suggested lowly, optics glowing impishly. The eager jolt he felt pulse through Blindside was answer enough. The hands that delved into the seams where his back transformed into the jetpack, playing with sensitive wires there, was definitely a bonus.

Arms locked tight around each other, they took to the air, heading for a secluded launching pad in order to get _reacquainted_ with each other.

* * *

"So, do you think they said sorry to each other yet?" Sideswipe queried as he paced the floor of their room.

Sunstreaker lolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling. "Maybe."

Sideswipe stomped a foot in frustration. "What kind of answer is that?"

With a sigh, Sunstreaker tipped his head back until he could stare at his brother upside down from the berth. "The kind of answer you get when I don't know the answer."

Frustrated, the red sparkling made a rude noise and started pacing again.

"Come up here and recharge with me," Sunstreaker invited, patting the berth.

"No."

"Why not?"

"I want to know what's happening!" Sideswipe whined. "Don't you want to know?"

"Not really. I'm not going to fight anymore, so they can't reprogram me, so there's nothing to fight about. They're probably just doing what sparkmates do after a fight, whatever that is."

Sideswipe waved his arms. "But they don't know that you're not going to fight anymore! And both of them can be so dumb sometimes! They could be going at each other really bad by now."

Sunstreaker suddenly sat up. "Oh, you're right."

"Don't you wanna make sure they're not getting into another fight over nothing?" Sideswipe pleaded.

"Um…" The brown sparkling started inching to the edge of the berth, hopping to the floor. "I guess it couldn't hurt if we checked…"

Sideswipe rushed for his brother's pincer, gripping it tight. "All right, just a peek, and then we'll be right back. Promise."

It wasn't that late for the rest of the occupants of the coliseum, so the lights were all still on, bots still mingling in the corridors. The twins had to be extra-sneaky to get past everyone without being caught. It wasn't that they would get in trouble, but there was the chance that someone would pick them up and try to put them back in recharge. Besides, it was a lot more fun running through the halls pretending that they were on a super-awesome mission from the Prime and couldn't get caught by the 'enemy'.

"Wait!" Sunstreaker hissed as they scooted along the wall. "Wait, wait, wait, wait-." His head swiveled about, searching blindly down the empty hall.

"What is it?" Sideswipe asked warily, scouring his spark resonance scanner in case someone was coming near.

"I thought I caught Blindside and Wildride's signatures on my scanner for a second," Sunstreaker informed. He stepped one way, and then the other, trying to pick it up again. "Something was weird about them."

"Weird how-?" Sideswipe bolted straight as he picked up the same signature. "Never mind."

"It's like they're the same now, isn't it?" Sunstreaker pressed, squirreling in the right direction now that they were sure they had their Creators' spark signatures. "Same but different."

Sideswipe nodded, faceplate scrunched in concentration as he tried to read the data he was getting. "Like us, I think," he said warily. "Like how we only have one signature between us when we're too close."

"Yeah, like that!"

They stopped just beyond the main hall that led into the arena, looking to each other for confirmation. The unusual spark signatures were definitely coming from down that hall. As quiet as they could, they crept through the shadows with their hands shielding their optics so that the glow didn't attract attention. Coming into the fully lit arena, they were disappointed to find it empty.

"Are we in the right place?" Sideswipe wondered confusedly.

"We should be." Sunstreaker peered around, across the floor, up the isles, down the seats, seeing no one. A flash of blue caught his optic, making him squint upward into the rafters. Another flash of blue broke the gloom, followed by a breathy groan. It sounded like Blindside. "Up there," he murmured, pointing to the right platform.

"_What are they doing?"_ Sideswipe hissed, staring incredulously as their Creators rolled to the edge of a platform. Wildride was on top, pinning Blindside down. They looked like they were fighting, or wrestling. They twisted against each other, writhing. The noises they were making sounded like they were in pain. "Sh-should we do something?" the red sparkling asked worriedly.

Sunstreaker grabbed his brother's hand before the other could run off. "Wait. I don't think they're hurting each other…"

Wildride suddenly reared back, his guttural growl rolling through the rafters like thunder. To the twins' absolute shock, his chassis split open. Blindside's hissed open as well. The lightning that arced between their frames was bright, blinding even. A strange sense rose inside the twins as they bore witness to this bizarre wrestling match. It was a prickling, awed awareness tickling their senses. Whatever was happening was important. Intimate. Neither sparkling had ever seen a spark before; it was some kind of unwritten, unspoken thing they had picked up that a bot didn't show their spark to just anybody. Their own sparkcases hadn't even been opened since their sparks had first been put in them, except for when Ratchet thought it smart to inspect them. Both were completely unprepared for what happened next...

Blindside laughed, arching his frame, and then grabbed Wildride's frame and dragged them both down to the platform. Their chests sealed. Both mechs groaned, loud enough to echo off the rafters. Ribbons of light danced around every surface. It looked like magic.

"I think we should go now," Sunstreaker said lowly, knowing that he and his brother were witnessing something very intimate between their Creators.

Sideswipe appeared transfixed to the sight, mouthplates gaping slightly.

"Sides? Sides, hey, we should go." When Sideswipe didn't respond to Sunstreaker's voice, or even the nudge to his arm, Sunstreaker jolted him with an astral-poke to the spark.

"Huh? Wha-? What?"

Sunstreaker tugged his brother in the right direction. "Let's go, half-bit."

"Oh, right…" Creeping close to each other, Sideswipe squeezed his brother's pincer. "You think they made up?" he asked curiously.

Sunstreaker hummed pensively, glancing back only to be blinded by the brightest flash of blue-lightning yet. For some reason, it made him smile. "Yeah, I think they made up."


	15. Chapter 10

**MoonstarWorld- **I don't like children by a long shot, so when a writer says that I've be able to write believable youngling minds, I really take it to heart. Thank you so much~ I'm happy that you've enjoyed the story thus far. ^_^

**Queen of the Red Skittles**- Thank you so much~ I'm glad that you enjoyed the last chapter. ^_^ Flip and the Twin are always a treat to write for. =) As for your thoughts on the phrase "like permanent fixtures in the place', your analysis of it was fascinating. When I wrote it, I thought of it from a child's point of view, living in the same house their whole life with the same people, everything would feel as if it were constant and permanent; if something or someone left, the solidarity of the world their child knew is shaken. Your expansion of it into the minds of the Autobots and Decepticons is fascinating.

**Elita One**- That's one of his many charms.

**Balrog Roike**- Yes, you were quite fierce, now weren't you? No matter, the issue's in the past now. I'm glad that you enjoyed the last chapter. =) It will be up to Sunstreaker to see if he keeps his promise.

**Shizuka Taiyou**- They didn't quite know what's going on, so I think they're safe for now. But there's plenty of life left ahead for them to be scarred. =P

**Bluebird Soaring**- Hehehehe, I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter so much~ Flip is such an interesting character to play with, and the Twins are always a treat! =P The second half of the chapter was interesting to write, and I was so curious to see what others would think of it.

**FunkyFish1991**- Awwwww, it's okay to be the ultimate nerd! Wear your nerdy badge of honour proudly! XD (And, yeah, 29 reviews for that posted chapter… 6 for the current one. O_o ) You and your nerdy-brilliant brain just seem to pick up on all the little details, don't you? I don't get how you do it! *o* Picking up on Sunstreaker being the more emotionally mature one (possibly emotionally stunted…), Flip's quirks (even though you know more than anyone about them already…), the FORESHADOWING; you miss nothing. XD You need a bigger nerd badge. =P Oh wait, being the official artist that you are, you can just draw one! XD *ahem* Okay, now this is just getting as crazy as your review. So, as a concluding statement, I want to say that you are the best and thank you so much for reading. =D

**Lecidre**- Oh, of course Wildride and Blindside had to get back together! That would be too horrible to have them separate like that, especially since they're bonded and can't really separate ever. Although, if they had had to explain their sparkbonding thing to Sunny and Sides with their sparkcases still open, I'd say they might just die of embarrassment. XD But thank you much for the love on the OCs~! I try really hard to treat them as I treat all the canon characters. =)

**Shimmershadow30-** Thanks so much! Your enthusiasm is really heartening! I'm glad that you have enjoyed the story so much! =D

**Marinelife37**- lol~ I think the Cybertronian equivalent of the sex talk would be less traumatizing than the human version, since everyone already knows sparks from the Allspark and interfacing can be for fun or business. It's just the whole spark-sex thing that would get tricky. XD

**DitzyMusicLover**- At least they're not traumatize for life ^^;

**Teldra**- lol~

Special shout out to **FunkyFish1991**, who was kind enough to read this… months ago. ^^; I hope this makes your day! =D

**Surface of the Sun  
****Chapter 10**

Ratchet stared down his olfactory sensor sternly, sizing up the pair sitting before him on the edge of one of his berths. They stared back unflinchingly, being two of the few creatures on the planet immune to his intimidation tactics. Even if they weren't, they were far too excited for what this meeting would bring that it wouldn't have mattered anyways. To be fair, their excitement was understandable- this was one of the defining moments of their young lives.

"Are you sure of this decision?" the medic enquired, quirking an optic ridge.

Sideswipe heaved a sigh, his excitement quickly turning to exasperation. "For the thousandth time, Ratchet, _yes_! I'm sure! Sunstreaker's sure! We're both sure as sure can be!" He waved an arm between himself and his brother. "We're a couple _decades_ old! If we wait any longer, we're going to rust over!" He walked the fine line between exasperation and accusation, as if Ratchet were the one to purposely hold them back.

Ratchet's optics narrowed. "Don't take that tone with me," he warned.

Sideswipe frowned, huffing. "But you've been asking us if we're ready for the last joor. We can't get any readier than we are now."

Ratchet crossed his arms "Yes, but you've been saying you're ready for the last few _vorns_. We've been through this at least half a dozen times; every time I go to upgrade you, you change your mind at the last breem and then you run off on some other fantastical idea. Excuse me if I am a little sceptical now."

"Yeah, but- oh, _never mind_." Sideswipe hunkered down, defeated. Even he had to admit he'd been on the fence for the last decade or so. It was just so hard trying to decide one's future function; everything looked so fun and interesting! Sure, he knew that whatever he chose didn't have to be forever- he could choose another function after a while. Except knowing that only left him with the headache of trying to decide what he wanted to be _first_. Now that he had his decision, he wasn't changing it no matter what!

…at least for now.

Looking to Sunstreaker, who raised both his optic ridges in return, Sideswipe sighed and sagged.

"I _promise_ I won't change my mind again," he exclaimed emphatically. "I want to be a performer like Wildride and the others."

Ratchet raised his optic ridges. "No specializing, like choreography or-," _Primus forbid_ "-pyrotechnics?"

There was a moment of consideration as he tossed the ideas about, but in the end Sideswipe wrinkled his faceplate and shook his head. "No, I want to be a general performer- they get a lot more show time on the floor. Wildride even said he'd be my mentor when I finally graduate to my adult frame."

Satisfied with the answer, the medic nodded. "I'm glad that something has finally captured your attention for more than a few astroseconds at a time." He turned his gaze to Sunstreaker, his optics softening fractionally. "And you, little one?"

"I still want to be a painter," the mottled brown bot announced. "That hasn't changed."

Ratchet patted him on the head, far more approving of the brown sparkling than he was of his twin. He liked them both the same, it was only that one didn't annoy the slag out of him every moment of the orn. "You've had your spark set on being a painter for a very long time."

Sunstreaker grinned brightly. "I love painting."

"He's getting really good at it, too," Sideswipe chirped. "You should see some of the things he's painted back at the coliseum. They're amazing!"

Sunstreaker laughed embarrassedly as his brother proceeded to heap praise on all of his most recent artistic works. They weren't anything special, really. Not compared to all the great works he had seen in the galleries Thrillride had taken him to. But to Sideswipe, who was as far from an artist as an armless, legless, blind drone, anything Sunstreaker painted was a masterpiece.

"I'm not really as good as he says," he admitted to Ratchet. "I haven't done any formal downloading yet, so it's all just playing around."

"Some bots find they have a talent for things even without downloads," the medic assured. "Have you given thought as to whether you want to be a freelance painter or frame artist?"

"I don't know yet," Sunstreaker shrugged. Freelancing could be fun, and it would give him the chance to travel and see the world. Being a frame artist would ensure that he had a steady place to live and work in the coliseum, painting the buildings themselves and everyone in them.

Ratchet smiled softly. "That's alright. You don't have to figure it out just yet- you have plenty of time to narrow your downloads to the right one."

"Oh, he gets to figure out what kind of painter he wants to be whenever he wants and I have to know exactly what kind of performer I want before you upgrade me? How fair is that?!" Sideswipe grouched. "Favouritism!"

Ratchet poked the fuming sparkling in the head. "Your brother doesn't have the attention span of, well, _you_. The sooner you're narrowed down, the sooner we can all stick a leash on you instead of having you bounce from function to function."

"He has a point," Sunstreaker intoned. "You do tend to be all over the place, Sides. Just suck it up and accept it."

Sideswipe crossed his arms, turning his olfactory sensor up. "Just because he has a point doesn't mean I have to like it."

The medic smirked down at the pair, reaching for Sideswipe to herd him to the edge of the berth. "How about you hold still right there and I'll give you something you'll like," he said- not sarcastically like he normally would, but in a rarely heard tone of playfulness.

Like a light suddenly switching on, Sideswipe's optics lit up to full brightness, his whole frame instantly bursting with excitement.

"You're going to upgrade me now?!"

Ratchet nodded, laughing a bit as the sparkling danced enthusiastically. "You're going first so you don't have the chance to change your mind again."

Ignoring the minor slight against him, Sideswipe cheered. "I'm gonna be a youngling first! I'm gonna be a youngling first!" Suddenly remembering that he needed to stand still, he came to a sliding halt, spinning around so his back faced Ratchet. He slapped his back, closest to his interface panel. "Do it now! Upgrade me now!"

Sunstreaker slapped his palm to his faceplate, shaking his head back and forth. "We're supposed to be mature about this," he sighed.

"I'll be mature later!" Sideswipe squawked, and then craned his neck around to the overseeing medic. "Hurry up! I wanna be a youngling already!"

Ratchet stilled the hopping imp with a hand around his legs, nudging open the small red panel in the middle of Sideswipe's upper back to expose the interfacial port beneath. "There's a certain level of responsibility that comes with upgrading," he warned.

"We know, we know," Sideswipe huffed. "Blue told us all about it a long time ago. We get access codes to the restricted places here; conversations, downloads, and holovids don't have to be as censored anymore, AND we get our own cables to interface with others!"

"Looking forward to that part, are you?" Ratchet chuckled.

"Yeah!" Sideswipe grinned happily. "Blue says that interfacing with others is so cool! You get to see inside each others' heads and share data and memories and stuff like that!"

"There are regulations, though," the medic reminded.

Sunstreaker nodded, eyeing his brother. "Yeah, Sides, there are regulations."

"They're stupid," the red sparkling groaned, clearly having forgotten about that part.

"They're in place so you don't damage your still-developing processor," Ratchet chided, and then decided it was best to reiterate a shortened version of the rules just in case it had gone in one audio and out the other for one of them. "Once your status is upgraded and you have your own interfacial cable, you're allowed to interface with other younglings and anyone above that developmental range. Sparklings, like yourselves at the moment, are prohibited. Should you interface with someone of adult status, like myself, interaction should be kept to the simplest terms."

Sideswipe frowned. "Like they're just supposed to sit there and take it?"

Ratchet crossed his optics. "Not quite. If either party goes beyond what is deemed "safe" interaction, the connection will be aborted and you will not be able to interface for 2 orns until the protection system is reset."

"That's dumb," the red sparkling pouted.

"Safety is not dumb," Ratchet insisted, and then sighed. "Yet it's a lost cause trying to tell you that." With a brief shake of his head, his own panel in his shoulder popped open. Unravelling his cord, the tip of it extended from generic size to a plug that would accommodate a sparkling's frame. Plugged in, Ratchet moved easily through the limited data to the directory, selecting the status file and inputting the codes for status change. Once the listing was changed from sparkling to youngling, he withdrew.

"That's it?" Sideswipe marvelled.

"I'm afraid so."

He quickly accessed his directory and looked on in joy at his new status. _"Awesome." _

"Now you get to choose your own cable," Ratchet said, walking over to a cabinet. Inside was a rack hung with dozens of different coloured microbot-sized cables. Sideswipe was plucked up from the berth and put on the counter to get a better look at them all. "Take good care of your cable, because I don't like having to replace them."

"Can I have a red one?" Sideswipe asked brightly, pointing to the specific shade, which was nearest the colour of his plating. The appropriate cable was unhooked and handed over for him to fuss over.

"My turn?" Sunstreaker prompted, his back smartly turned to the medic.

Ratchet nodded and quickly established the connection. A sudden spur of giddiness suddenly drifted through Sunstreaker, alerting him to his brother. Ratchet picked up on it as well through the connection and turned to investigate. Sideswipe had his shiny new cable wrapped around his neck like a scarf, one end connected to his back already while he swung the other end around in big, self-important circles. The exaggerated swagger he put only served to make him look even more ridiculous. With an amused shake of his head, Ratchet returned his attentions to Sunstreaker, who continued to watch his brother.

That's when something on the wall caught Sideswipe's attention.

Sunstreaker looked up to Ratchet. "Um, Ratchet…?"

"No talking."

"But…"

"No."

Sunstreaker pressed his mouthplates together.

Sideswipe paused to make a face at his twin before swaggering closer to the wall. He still swung his cable proudly as he inspected the new curiosity. It was a wall outlet. Much to Sunstreaker's growing incredulity, his brother stopped swinging his cord so as to draw it in to inspect the tip. And then he inspected the outlet.

Sunstreaker shot a pleading glance up at Ratchet, hoping his horror would alert the medic. Unfortunately, Ratchet had already disconnected and was coiling his cord away.

"Sideswipe…" Sunstreaker whined warningly.

Sideswipe grinned, optics glittering as he locked gazes with his brother. The turning cogs in his head could practically be seen just as he lifted the free end of his cord and stuck it in the outlet.

"Sides, no!"

There was a flash of light, a **ZAP!** followed by a yelp, and Sideswipe was thrown backwards off the counter and to the floor. A plume of grey smoke drifted up from the outlet, accompanied by the smell of something burning.

"Primus almighty!" Ratchet roared, swooping to scoop the electrified youngling from the floor. "What the pit did you do??"

"Um…" Sunstreaker pointed to the smoking outlet.

Ratchet zeroed in on it, and then glared down at the youngling in his palm.

"That tingled!" Sideswipe cried dazedly, laughing.

The medic was clearly at a loss for words.

"I tried to warn you," Sunstreaker sighed.

Ratchet looked from the smoking youngling in his palm to the one still on the berth. "Just get out."

The brown youngling's faceplate fell. "But I haven't gotten my cable yet!"

"You'll get it later, as soon as I fix your brother."

"But-!"

"Out!"

Zipping for the ladder, Sunstreaker flew down it and out the door. He didn't stop running until he was out the front door of the administration building and standing in the middle of the courtyard. Once there, he spun around and stared at the door he just ran out of, feeling a bit slighted that he didn't get his own cable because of his brother. Through their connection, he felt Sideswipe's continued giddiness from his electrocution. Huffing, Sunstreaker made sure to send his best disapproving feeling to his brother. Unfortunately, Sideswipe was so far gone at the moment that all it did was tickle him.

Crossing his arms, scuffing his foot, Sunstreaker spun around in order to start hunting down some friends to play with until Sideswipe was fixed.

"Sunstreaker! Hey, Sunstreaker!"

Hearing his designation being called, he spun in the general direction, spotting two unfamiliar bots by the open gates. One of them, a bouncing cerulean blue minibot, was waving excitedly. Unsure of what to do, he waved back awkwardly. The minibot laughed, said something to the willowy mech he was standing with, and then rushed forward. As the minibot got close, Sunstreaker's spark resonance scanners picked up the signature and recognized it.

"Blue!"

Skidding to a halt, the minibot that was now Blue grinned brightly. "Yep! It's me!" And then his optics flashed as he remembered something. Crouching, he held his hand out. "It's nice to meet you, I'm Cerulean!"

Sunstreaker tipped his head at the funny gesture. "I already know you."

Cerulean shook his head. "No, see, when you reformat for the first time, bots are supposed to pretend they're meeting you for the first time 'cause you got your first new frame and everything- it's a weird tradition. Just go along with it." He stuck his hand out more insistently. "It's nice to meet you."

Laughing a little, Sunstreaker touched the minibot's hand. "Nice to meet you too, Cerulean…" He paused, looked around, and then said, "I didn't know you were reformatting today."

Cerulean grinned. "It was supposed to be a surprise. Lapis and I were going to come by the coliseum to surprise you before we left for Crystal City, but here you are!"

"Me and Sides wanted to surprise you with our upgrades!" Sunstreaker exclaimed.

The minibot blinked in surprise. "You were upgraded today?"

"Yup!"

"Congratulations! I was starting to think Sideswipe would never settle on a function!" Cerulean leaned around Sunstreaker, looking for something. "Where's your cable? The orn I was upgraded, I couldn't put mine down."

The youngling pouted. "Sideswipe stuck his cable in a power outlet. I got sent out while Ratchet freaked out and now I have to wait until he's fixed."

Cerulean blinked. "Did Sideswipe really…?"

"Uh-huh."

"Oh." A moment passed, and then the minibot was laughing so hard his vocal processor was fading in and out with static. "Only your brother, I swear! Only Sideswipe would do something like that!"

Sunstreaker finally found some humour in the situation, laughing a bit. Nevertheless, he still wished his twin had a little more sense than a drone.

The mech Cerulean had been standing with finally came over, drawn by the laughter. Upon closer inspection, the mech was of Crystal City make, just like Cerulean's new frame, though of a different shade of blue and sporting Security Response decals on his shoulders. Putting a hand to the minibot's back and crouching to the side, he quirked a smile. "What's so funny, little brother?"

Cerulean informed him, falling back to a tendency he thought he had grown out of- talking too much. A nasty habit Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had worked on taming for vorns. It only came out now when he was really excited about something. Lapis put up a hand when the blathering teetered on excessive.

"Alright, I get it." He chuckled warmly, looking down to Sunstreaker. "One of the infamous Twins I've heard so much about, I presume? The one who _didn't_ stick his cable in the outlet."

The youngling smartly held out his hand. "Sunstreaker."

"Lapis Lazuli," the mech replied, brushing hands. "Cerulean has spoken very highly of you and your brother. You two are almost all he ever talks about. Considering who it is-," he slapped his brother on the back, "that's saying a lot."

"Lapis!" the minibot whined.

Lapis kept needling, like most big brothers would. "He should have designated himself Bluestreak instead of Cerulean, but tradition is tradition, you know?"

Cerulean withered, whining.

"Maybe the next reformat?" Sunstreaker offered cheekily.

"Oh yes, definitely," Lapis nodded. "Once he's a fully trained officer, we won't give him a choice."

"I like my designation! It took me a really long time to come up with it!" the minibot pouted. "There were so many different shades of blue to choose from!"

"We're just teasing, young one," Lapis soothed.

Cerulean twittered embarrassedly. "It wasn't very funny."

"I thought it was," Sunstreaker teased.

"Says the bot whose twin stuck his cable in an outlet."

They made faces at each other, and then laughed. Cerulean glanced at his older brother, canting his head. "We don't have to be to the transport terminal for another couple joors, right?"

"Yes, why?"

The minibot shrugged. "Now that Sunstreaker is upgraded, I'd like a chance to interface with him before I go. Give him something to remember me by, you know?" His gaze swung to Sunstreaker. "That is… if you want to. If there was someone else you'd like to try your first session with, that's okay."

Sunstreaker brightened excitedly. "No, I'd love to interface with you! You have your own built in cable, right?"

"Cable and port," he chirped. A panel in his shoulder popped open, revealing the complete package.

Lapis straightened to his feet, nudging his brother along. "Go on, have your fun. Call me when you're done." With that, he transformed and rolled out of the courtyard.

Cerulean waved after his brother and then appily tossed Sunstreaker to his shoulder. They ended up laughing at their new height difference- it was so very strange to have Blue- _Cerulean_- so tall now!They made their way quickly through the courtyard into the main building where they were met by Caretakers and a few Guardians offering their congratulations to Cerulean on his reformatting, and even a couple happy wishes on his apprenticeship in Crystal City. After sidestepping the last of the happy salutations, the pair quickly made their way up to their favourite level: the observatory deck. Some younglings already up there bounced about excitedly as they saw what had become of their friend Blue. Sunstreaker was given the honour of inputting his new access codes into the door to make their way out onto the balcony.

Cerulean dropped into a chair, letting Sunstreaker slide from his shoulder to the middle of his abdomen. Sunstreaker got comfortable on the smooth slates of metal.

"It's a nice design," he commented, giving it a proper appraisal now that they were alone.

"Thanks," the minibot gushed, flustered and proud at the same time. "It's just for the apprenticeship. I was thinking of either reformatting to a femme or mech when I graduate to a full officer."

"You'd make such a pretty femme," Sunstreaker said.

"Aww, so would you!" Cerulean gushed. He scrambled for his cord, displaying the classic uncoordinated signs of a bot not used to his new frame yet. Things were bigger and at a greater distance apart than they were before. It would take some getting used to.

"I know I've said this before, but it's really weird the first time you interface," he warned excitedly. "Not like medical inspections at all. It's really fun, but really weird."

"No weirder than being split from the same spark as your brother," the youngling reasoned.

"Doesn't get much weirder than that, I guess." Like Ratchet's connecter, Cerulean's narrowed out to fit, and then snapped into the port in Sunstreaker's back.

The usual synchronizing scroll screen appeared. Once both frames were linked, Sunstreaker was left with the most curious sensation of falling. Not physically falling, even though his pincers shot out to catch himself, but falling out of his head and into another. Not like Ratchet inspecting his files at all, which was akin to having a very thick wall put in place so that the medic's internal thoughts could not leak over. If anything was touched or repaired, it felt like mental-scaffolding being built up in his head. Interfacing with Cerulean was like jumping into an ocean, with waves and currents and bubbles everywhere. Sideswipe sensed the change and was instantly curious of the creature invading his twin's head.

Cerulean laughed, out loud, but also within the connection. His humour could be _felt_, which was a very strange feeling for Sunstreaker. He was used to feeling Sideswipe always in his head, but never anyone else. Other people felt weird. Sunstreaker shook it off, trying to follow along with Cerulean's thoughts as he took an interest in Sideswipe's presence. Sideswipe wasn't quite there, not like a real participant, but more like… a shadow. He was aware of the interface connection, though not able to connect to Cerulean's mind. Sideswipe prodded his brother's spark instead, which transferred to Cerulean all the same. And then Cerulean would prod Sunstreaker's mind, which transferred through his spark.

Sunstreaker put a hand to his head. _"Is it supposed to make you dizzy like this?"_ He gaped when he realized he hadn't said the words out loud.

"_Only when there's three or more minds involved,"_ Cerulean replied in the same fashion. He did his best to rein his thoughts in, keep everything in check, and not allow too much to leak through the connection. He knew how finicky some safety programs could be and didn't want to push his luck on Sunstreaker's first session. _"The reason you have only one port on your back that acts as a port and cable connector is to ensure that you don't interface with more than one bot. That could get you ejected out of the connection." _

Curious of why he wasn't being thrown out of the interface connection because of Sideswipe's interference rose in Sunstreaker, and because of their convenient connection, Cerulean was instantly aware of the curiosity.

"_I guess it doesn't count if one of the connections is through a spark."_ Cerulean smiled sheepishly. _"I'm still learning the ins and outs of interfacing, too. I've never done it with a bonded bot before." _

Sunstreaker nodded wisely, choosing not to wonder anymore about it. He was having a hard enough time trying to keep his thoughts straight. There was him and Sideswipe, which was fine, but add someone else into the mix and things started getting a little haywire.

"Try pushing Sideswipe out," Cerulean offered out loud. "That could help you focus."

Nodding, Sunstreaker shooed his brother back into the corner of his mind he usually stayed in. Not that Sideswipe wanted to go. He fought, eager to impress more of himself into the three-way. The stress of it on Sunstreaker's mind threw up a warning screen of impending ejection. Clapping his pincers over his faceplate, Sunstreaker groaned. He would be so mad if Sideswipe was the reason his first interface session was ruined!

Finally Sideswipe got the hint and receded back into his corner, pouting all the way. He stayed there with the promise that he wouldn't budge, but he was stay close in the bond so he could feel a shade of what happened next. The warning screen with the countdown to ejection froze, and then disappeared.

"Whew, that was a close one," Cerulean sighed.

"Yeah."

"I always knew Sideswipe was a little crazy. I don't know how you put up with him being inside you all the time."

The youngling pursed his mouthplates thoughtfully. "I don't know any different," he finally said. "I've always been connected to him."

The minibot blinked, and then shook his head in awe. "I have a whole new respect for you."

Sunstreaker laughed, twisting an arm around to jiggle the cable in his back for a more comfortable fit. "Is this all there is to interfacing?" he wondered.

"No way, there's a lot more! I haven't even tried to send you memories yet! I'll send you one of Crystal City- give me an astrosecond."

Sunstreaker felt the action of Cerulean's memory files being opened, a memory selected, and then sent across the connection. It wavered there in Sunstreaker's head, but he didn't know quite what to do with it. _"How do I open it?"_

"_Touch it."_

Concentrating on it, the file opened readily, revealing the minibot's home city. It was a very unique place, to say the least; the most artistic of all the cities on Cybertron. Towers twisted up with patterned sides, gilded walls and windows glittering bright and colourful like rainbows. Atop the highest spires were the crystal structures of the city's name sake; they were stunning growths of every translucent colour, shattering rays of light into a thousand rainbows. Some were carved into eye-catching geometric shapes, while others were left in their natural splendor. The file also contained Cerulean's feeling towards his home- love, wonder, pride, excitement, happiness; he couldn't wait to go home for real and stay there.

"It's so pretty…" Sunstreaker whispered.

"Isn't it?" the minibot sighed contently. "Send me a memory of yours now."

Thinking briefly, Sunstreaker sent a memory of his trip to Diluna with the troop, performing on the Moon Lord's administrative estate. The domicile was a huge figure of white tungsten accented by ink-black panels of imported obsidian, and to all side of the estate was sprawling yards of statues and glittering lights that went as far as the optic could see. Lord Mirage briefly passed through the memory, austere and aloof as he sat in a place of honour watching a private performance. Dream Chaser also appeared, though now he was called Hound. Cybertron hung high and huge and bright overhead, taking up the majority of the moon's clear sky.

Cerulean gaped at the memory. _"That's even neater than Crystal City!" _

Enlivened, Sunstreaker instantly sent a few more memories of other places he'd travelled to. Cerulean accepted them excitedly, trading them with memories of his own. They didn't realize how deep their mental connection had become until Sunstreaker cheekily brushed against Cerulean's mind. Both of them came away with a warm, tingling shock. It was unusually and unexplainably _pleasant_.

"Oh!" Cerulean jerked up, flustered.

Curious, Sunstreaker pressed again and came away with the same enjoyable result. "What was that?" he wondered.

"That's, _wow_, that's one of the things adults can do when they interface," Cerulean said, shifting. "They can make each other feel really pleasant things but touching each others minds in certain ways. I've never done that before…"

Canting his head, Sunstreaker poked a few more times, receiving a couple tentative pokes back. "You want to try it?"

"I don't know if your safety programs will let you," Cerulean said tentatively. He eased forward into Sunstreaker's mind, only to be met with a big, flashing warning. "Nope, see? Can't. That's too complex."

"Darn." He clicked his pincers together. "Wanna try when I reformat?"

Cerulean blinked. "Sure, I'd love to, but you'd have to come visit me in my city, or I'll visit you in yours."

"Haha, it's a deal!" Wriggling the cable out, the youngling handed it over to its owner to coil away. "That was a lot of fun, though. I can't wait to try it with someone else." He perked up suddenly. "Oh! Ratchet finally let Sideswipe go."

"Want to go find him?"

"Sure, but the electric shock's worn off, so now he's cranky."

"Good thing I have to get going soon," the minibot intoned. He put a hand to the side of his head. "Lapis says he found an earlier transport that can get us to Crystal City. I have to hurry to the terminal so I don't miss it."

Back on the ground floor, they found Sideswipe moping near one of the play structures. He still had his interface cable, but the shock to his system had arrested his interfacial programming for the next few orns. As soon as he spotted his brother and the new minibot, he brightened. When the minibot's true identity was revealed, he brightened up even more. There was only time enough for Sunstreaker and Cerulean to relate their tale of interfacing to a thoroughly envious Sideswipe before the minibot had to leave

"I wish you didn't have to go right now!" Sideswipe whined. "I never got a chance to see the memories! All I did was feel bits and pieces of the connection."

Sunstreaker patted him on the shoulder. "I have the memories now, so I can send them to you as soon as you're able to connect."

"Still not the same."

"Maybe next time we see each other," Cerulean offered. "Me and Sunstreaker already have a date for when he reformats, so it's only fair you have a turn, too." He transformed much to the twins' awe. He had a very official looking alt mode, with Crystal City decals on side panels. "Don't forget, Sunstreaker, you and me will do that thing sometime, 'kay?"

"Kay!"

As the minibot rolled for the gates, the twins waved ecstatically after him.

"_Bye Blue- oops! I mean Cerulean!" _

As soon as he was out of sight, Sideswipe turned to his twin and eyed him suspiciously.

"What _thing_ are you going to do with him?"

Sunstreaker stuck his olfactory sensor in the air, feeling much more mature. "I'll tell you when you're older."

"I want to know now."

"You'll just have to live with your power outlets for now."

Sideswipe stared darkly. "…I'm never going to live that one down, am I?"

"Nope."


	16. Chapter 11

Sorry for the long, long, _long_ wait, folks... It's been hard. School got in they way. And then life. And then a bit of death. But everything is alright now. With my exams all done, this is actually the first day of my summer vacation, so I'm rather thrilled at the moment. I'm posting this chapter so that everyone may join in on my joy! Yay! 8D

**Thank You Corner is brought to you by: Summer Vacation. It's awesome. =D**

**Elita One**- We love him anyways, though! XD

**Ladyleyn**- You're a braver woman than I for working in childcare for so long. It's true that Ratchet should have learnt by now to never turn his back on a little imp like Sideswipe, but perhaps he was hoping that the upgrade would magically make Sideswipe smarter? XD You're right about the reference to the 2007 movie. I just had to throw that in there for the really keen readers to catch. =P

**Chloo**- If you're curious about the whole transition process from first to adult frame, you better stick around to find out, my friend. =P It's great that you like the "openness" that the Cybertronians address interfacing; it's supposed to be nothing like human sex, so I decided to treat it completely differently than how it's treated by the dominant repressive and intolerant cultures of today. Even "gender" is thrown out the window on Cybertron! They wear gender the same way we wear clothes; they can change it as often as they like. XD As for robots doing drugs... you may see a lot of that in the future of this fic. There's more than just energizer on the black market...

**Marinelife37**- That's pretty much the equivalent on Earth, isn't it? Because the other thing that interfacial could be equivalent to on little boys would not be a pleasant thing to stick in a power outlet... x_x

**Peacewish**- Glad you enjoyed it =P

**Lecidre**- Yay! You caught the reference between Sideswipe being electrified and Ratchet being electrified in the 2007 movie! And you have caught on to a small detail about the bots of the WE verse- they do like being electrified in "small" doses; it actually has a similar happy-woozy-warm-silly effect that an overload does, in a strange kind of way. ^^; Awwww, you naughty girl! You were thinking about a threesome between them? That might happen in some crazy one-shot I might write, but for now these young bots were just having a bit of fun discovering each other. =P

**Ladyofthedrgns**- Yep, they were both overdue for a bit of an upgrade. Sideswipe's going to be a terrible troublemaker with his new status, if the outlet debacle was any indication. Hopefully everyone gets out alive by the time the twins are ready to reformat. XD

**Khalthar**- My goodness, I'm honestly flattered and humbled by your review. One of the greatest compliments a writer like me could ever have is for her readers to tell her that they not only like the story, but that it made sense of characters that already have such detailed lore about them already. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe still have a long way to go until the mechs that they are in present day, but you'll be able to see that journey as they story progresses. =P As an aside, it's beyond gratifying to know that you thought my portrayal of "Divine Intervention" wasn't at odds with the story itself. I haven't written anything like that before. ^^;

**Balrog Roike**- Sideswipe never makes it easy for anyone- it's his gift in life. =P Besides, who could resist the siren's call of the power outlet? It was too much for a bot like Sideswipe to say no to! XD

**Kai-Chan94**- Thanks so much!

**Shizuka Taiyou**- Yep, he did. =)

**Faecat**- The zapping of Sideswipe was so obvious that everyone saw it coming except him. XD Glad you enjoyed the chapter. Thank you for reviewing. =)

**FunkFish1991**- Oh my god, woman! Not only did you epic!comment the last chapter, but you proceeded to do so for all the other chapters you hadn't reviewed yet, and my head is still reeling! Did you know that you can almost accidentally wet yourself out of ridiculous happiness after reading one of your reviews? XD I've been reading and re-reading the reviews for the last chapter trying to think of something to say in return, and all I have come up with so far is: you are the most amazing woman on the face of this planet. Thank you so much for taking the time in being so thorough in your reviews. You are, by far, a very special person! And I am so, so, so happy that you enjoyed the chapter. I was hoping that you would. I also hope that you enjoy this chapter; I wrote it with you in mind. =) Not because of the content, but simply because I know this is your favourite WE-verse series and I wanted to do something special to thank you. Also, you made me laugh so much with your handicap over trying to get connect Cerulean to Blue; PLUS, you are not the only one to have thought of the ocean when thinking of the word cerulean! I do it all the time! 8D P.S. You're the best! *****hugs*

**Queen of the Red Skittle**- I'm glad that you enjoyed reading; it's always a joy to write and hear from readers who had a good time. =) As for trying to figure out why why the Autobots and Decepticons have been fighting their war for so darn long, I think fans have been trying to figure that out since 1984, and they still haven't decided yet. =P

From this day forward, this story is dedicated to **FunkyFish1991**, because she's awesome like that.

**Chapter 11**

"This is your fault."

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is."

Sunstreaker scowled up at the neon-green mech sitting next to him. "This is your fault."

Flashdance snorted. "_Me_? How is this _my_ fault?"

"You're the one who called me a monster. Again."

"And you're the one who can't take a joke. Ever."

"It wasn't a very funny joke!"

"That's 'cause you have no sense of humour!"

They sat for a full breem on the front ramp of the coliseum, glaring at each other in hopes that the other would spontaneously combust. They only looked away when a small gaggle of bots stopped at the gate at the end of the ramp to wave and say hello. Flashdance immediately dropped his sour expression in order to smile and bask in the adoration of perfect strangers. Sunstreaker was a little slower at letting go of his immediate grudge. He crossed his arms stubbornly across his chest and huffed. As soon as the fans were gone, Flashdance looked back down at his mottled-brown companion.

"You need to stop taking everything so seriously," the older mech admonished, poking Sunstreaker in the back. "I was just joking around."

The youngling stuck his olfactory sensor in the air. "I don't think being called a monster is very funny."

Flashdance rolled his optics. "You should be used to it by now."

"That doesn't mean it's going to get any funnier!"

"But if you had gone along with it instead of having a little conniption fit, then they wouldn't have kicked us out here to '_sort things out,_'" Flashdance griped. "You couldn't, just for once, have taken a joke like a normal bot?"

Sunstreaker cast a black glare up at the neon mech. "This is _your_ fault, stupid."

Flashdance pursed his mouthplates, glaring back. "Bratling."

"Clumsy."

"Half-bit."

"Slag-head."

"_Monster."_

Sunstreaker bristled and shot to his feet.

Behind them, the front doors to the coliseum cracked open and Flicker's bright head peered out. "Oh, you two are still here, huh?"

Flashdance shot to his feet, pure hope gleaming in his optics. "I knew you wouldn't leave me out in the cold, Flicker! You're going to let us back in, right?"

Flicker laughed a little as he shook his head. "No, not really. I was just hoping you hadn't wandered off so that I could give you this." He held out a data pad for Flashdance, who took it skeptically.

"What is it?"

"A list of things that everyone wants picked up," Flicker replied cheerfully. "If you're going to be out there, you might as well be doing something useful!" And with that, he ducked back into the coliseum and slammed the door shut. To add insult to injury, Sunstreaker and Flashdance could hear the locks click into place.

"TRAITOR!" Flashdance roared.

Sunstreaker opened his mouthplates to shout something too, but decided better of it while his company was raving like a lunatic at the door. It wasn't worth it to waste energy looking as stupid as Flashdance currently did. He shifted in agitation as he felt his own brother's humour through their bond. That traitorous red imp was probably laughing his aft off knowing Sunstreaker was stuck with his least liked brother of all the troupe. Sideswipe was probably having the time of his life laughing it up with the others.

Quickly running out of steam, Flashdance's tirade wound down to a rather unimpressive, "You know what? FINE! I'll get your damn stuff, but I hope it's all _defective_!" And with a flourish, he spun on his heel and marched his way toward the main gates.

Realizing that he was now being left completely alone, Sunstreaker stamped his feet and shouted, "Hey! Where are you going?! You can't just leave me here!"

"Oh yeah? Just watch me!"

"You jerk! You can't leave me here!" Flying down the ramp after the older mech, Sunstreaker made it to the gate just as Flashdance transformed. "I am not being left by myself out here for Primus only knows how long! You have to take me with you!"

"Says who?" Flashdance taunted, revving his engine.

"Says me!" Sunstreaker yowled, kicking the sleek craft in the side.

With a sigh, Flashdance reverted to his bipedal mode. "You can't transform and I don't have a compartment you can fit in while I drive," he pointed out. "And as far as I know, it's still illegal to strap you to my roof. What the pit do you want me to do? Grow a sidecar for you?"

Sunstreaker bristled, and all but spat, "_Ever hear of public transit?"_

The other mech blinked, took a step back, and then his faceplate morphed into a look of absolute horror. "Oh no. No way in the pit."

"No one else in the troupe has a problem with it," Sunstreaker pointed out acidly.

"I'm not everyone else in the troupe," Flashdance snapped. "You will _not_ catch me taking public transit in my own city. That's for losers and drones only. I got wheels and I'm using them."

"But you have to take me, too!" Sunstreaker exclaimed.

"You'll just have to figure out your own way around," shrugged Flashdance. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have things that need picking up."

Finally coming to his last neural circuit worth of patience, Sunstreaker tipped his head back and began to screech for everyone to hear, "THIS IS ABANDONMENT! YOU CAN'T JUST LEAVE ME HERE ALL BY MYSELF! I'M ONLY A YOUNGLING! I'LL CALL SECURITY RESPONSE ON YOU!!!!"

This, by far, was the most effective method of drawing any and all attention to himself from every living creature in the near vicinity. Flashdance gave a strangled screech of his own as he stooped down to snatch the youngling off the ground.

"Oh, come on! Are you kidding me?! Mute it already! Sunstreaker, be quiet!" he ordered, though he had to divide his demands with reassurances to the growing crowd building around them- "He's okay, folks! Just having a tantrum! You know how younglings can be!" With nervous laughter that was borderline gears grinding and accompanied by a smile that would make paint peel, he ducked his faceplate close to Sunstreaker and hissed, "Fine! Have it your way! We'll take the Primus-damned transit! Mute it already!"

Having achieved his goal, Sunstreaker instantly switched from screaming and unruly to silent and sitting demurely in the older mech's palm.

"Don't you think you're so cute."

"I'm slaggin' adorable," Sunstreaker growled rottenly.

With a disgusted snort, Flashdance threw Sunstreaker to his shoulder and quickly shouldered his way through the crowd. His good-humour for dealing with the public had evaporated about two astroseconds after Sunstreaker had started screaming. Now he was nothing but a lightning-coloured storm cloud marching down the walkways to the place designated for transit pickup. He knew where it was only because he had used it when he himself had been a youngling going into the city with the other troupe members. His foul mood wasn't made any better by the little brown demon sitting so proudly on his shoulder.

Upon arriving at the designated terminal and checking the schedule, both stuntmechs were annoyed to find that it was going to be a couple more breems before a transit craft was going to come by.

"That's just great," Flashdance snapped, marching to the convenient bench backed up against the side of the nearest building and flopping down on it.

As they waited, a small number of other bots began to wander into the area so as to wait for the transit craft. For something to do, Sunstreaker began to guess why all the rest of them would choose to take a transit craft instead of simply transforming and driving themselves around. There were microbots who began to gather around the area- the fliers stuck together in a small flock on a narrow perch above everyone while the bipedal ones wandered together in a tight gaggle. They were all too small to go great distances around the city-centre without assistance, so obviously they had to make use of public transit. By the sounds of their familiar chatter, they all made it a point to meet at the same terminal at the same time every orn so they could all ride together. One soft-green minibot waiting at the terminal walked with a slight limp, with his right hip sporting fresh welds and a dull-grey patch of temporary plating; he would have been medically ordered to take transit instead of transforming so he didn't aggravate his condition. Two bulky mechs and a streamlined femme stood together nervously a little down the walkway; they looked like they had operational alt modes, but Sunstreaker couldn't identify where they were from by the design of their frames. He gave Flashdance a nudge on the side of the head.

"I've never seen bots like them before," he said quietly.

Flashdance glanced over, shrugging. "They're from the off-world colonies," he said. "The big ones look like they're diggers, so they're probably from some mining colony."

"Why are they here?"

Again, Flashdance shrugged. "You see them around when they get time off. They like to come to Cybertron for something to do."

"Why are they using the transit? Why don't they just download a map of the city and drive around on their own?"

"Who knows?" Clearly not interested in keeping up the conversation, Flashdance struck up a conversation with the femme Seeker with a broken thruster who had come to sit beside them.

Sunstreaker sighed disappointedly, only to squeak when he realized the three colony bots were looking his way. He looked around nervously, seeing no one else around for them to be staring at, and then decided to give them a nervous wave. All three bots waved back cheerfully. The femme of their group tapped the biggest mech, shooing him forward. Slowly, and very shyly, the big mech crept forward and took a seat on the small patch of bench left free.

"Um... hi," Sunstreaker intoned carefully.

"...hi," replied the mech in a very soft voice- so soft that it could have been a femme's. "I was wondering... well, my friends and I were wondering... you wouldn't, by any chance, be Sunstreaker from the stunt troupe here, would you?"

"Yeah, I am. Why?" replied the youngling, canting his head.

Flashdance glanced over, harrumphed stubbornly, and went back to talking with his Seeker acquaintance.

The big mech twittered. "It's- ah, nothing, I guess...I'm Moonracer, by the way." He glanced back at his friends, who motioned encouragingly for him to continue. "Please don't think it's strange or anything, but you're kind of my hero. I came here hoping I'd at least get to see you."

Flattered and a little embarrassed by such an admittance, Sunstreaker stared down at his pincers. "I'm not that special..."

Moonracer leaned in. "Oh you are very special," he insisted. "You give bots like me a lot of hope- if someone like you can come about so unexpectedly and make the most of it, then why can't a miner like me be more than what I was programmed for? You're an inspiration to a lot of pre-programs."

"Thank you... I mean, you're welcome? I'm happy to be an inspiration," Sunstreaker giggled.

Flashdance shrugged his shoulders, abruptly rising to his feet. "Our ride's here," he announced as if it were a coming plague.

A large shuttle craft sank down from above, already teeming with a number of commuters. Two doors opened on opposite sides of the craft; one for smaller sized bots like Flashdance and others, and then another for bulky things like Moonracer and his large companion. Before they were completely separated, Sunstreaker shouted,

"I forgot to ask- why are you taking public transit?"

"It's the best way to travel," Moonracer replied with a laugh. "You always get to meet such interesting bots."

Grinning at the answer, Sunstreaker contentedly settled on Flashdance's shoulder to wait out the rest of the ride. Luckily, they found a free seat by the window to sit in. Unfortunately, the ride wasn't as peaceful as it could have been; as per the usual, their combined stardom was enough to attract more then a few curious stares. The braver ones wandered over to start up a conversation. By the time their stop rolled around, they almost missed it. The microbots that had crowded in around them were in utter awe of Flashdance as he regaled them with tales of wonder from his acts, and Flashdance was reluctant to relinquish his adoring fans. It was only when another passenger who had overheard their destination got their attention and warned them their stop was coming up next that they realized it was time to wrap things up.

They disembarked on one of the upper mid-levels of the market district, with a small trickle of other bots clamouring out behind them. Others wandered on as soon as the shuttle craft emptied.

Sunstreaker brushed himself off carefully, staring up at the crisscross of transport ways above him. They weren't that far from the surface, but still deep enough that most of the sky was obscured by metal.

Flashdance was busy reading through their list again, growing ever more agitated the more he read it. "Smoke capsules for the aerials; nitroglycerin, copper and iron shavings, prepared magnesium detonators for Blaze; new shock absorbers and heavy-duty industrial-grade lubricant for Flicker... Urgh! They could have picked up all this slag themselves! Lazy afts!"

"We're here now, so there's no point in complaining about it," Sunstreaker grumped.

"Mute it, runt," Flashdance griped. "Complaining about it makes me feel better."

"Listening to you complain about it makes me feel worse," replied the youngling.

"Get used it." Grabbing Sunstreaker from the ground, Flashdance set off to fulfil their list of things to pick up.

The only breaks they seemed to get for the rest of the orn was the fact that it wasn't a shipment orn and that they had missed the midorn madness. Without the influx of crazed bots shooting from shop to shop looking for what they needed while on their own breaks, it was relatively easy to get around without worrying about being stepped on. Even the drones appeared to be relaxed as they puttered about on their delivery runs. Every other detail of Sunstreaker and Flashdance's adventure only served to annoy the slag out them. Their list had them running in circles for things that could have easily been bought in a generic-brand, if only the bots demanding the product weren't so damned picky.

A good number of the merchants that the aerials dealt with for their smoke and sparklers were about as eccentric as they were. If it were possible, some of them were even _worse_. They tended to move their shops around whenever they pleased in the most eccentric game of musical chairs ever played; they all seemed to know each other, so they switched shops between themselves when the mood suited. The ones that came into the city-centre every couple orns and only sold their product from the backs of their ships were the worst ones to find. They didn't like to leave forwarding addresses to anyone except to their most loyal customers and they loved to park in places that made it very difficult for anyone without wings to get to them. Worse yet were the merchants who came in from the colonies who mainly spoke estranged dialects of Cybertronian and refused to switch to standard Cybertronian out of paranoia of being overheard by some imaginary threat that may or may not have been lurking somewhere near. They were all the kind of bots that no one would want to be left alone in a room with for any long period of time.

After hunting down the fourth twitchy, overly-excitable, clinically paranoid merchant hiding in a crevice between two warehouses in the industrial district, Flashdance declared that he gave up on life. Or, at least, he gave up on ever trying to do something nice for the aerials ever again.

"Me too," Sunstreaker conceded with a sigh. "How do Skyfly and Clouddrift find bots like that? Couldn't they just makes friends with _normal_ bots?"

"They couldn't do normal even if their lives depended on it. They're as weird as they come," Flashdance said with a roll of his optics. "Since you live in this troupe, too, you better get used to it; not one of us is normal- not me, not Wildride, not anyone." The corner of his mouthplates twitched up as he shot his small companion a sharp, humoured look. "Especially not you or your brother."

Sunstreaker frowned.

Flashdance saw the youngling's expression, responding to it with an exasperated shake of his head. "Come on, you can't take everything anyone ever says to you straight to spark," he said. "I really was just teasing you that time. Stop being so serious all the time; lighten up a little bit. You gotta learn to take a joke."

Sunstreaker pursed his mouthplates. "I can take a joke."

"Only the really obvious ones," Flashdance snorted lightly. He whistled for their wheeled drone to follow after them as they continued on their quest to fulfil their troupe's ridiculous list. "You're way too serious for your own good. It's not normal."

They weaved their way through a congested lane. The stares, glances, whispers, and squeaks of delight were readily absorbed by Flashdance. He took the attention as if it were his rightful property. Sunstreaker, on the other hand, didn't like it so much. He was all too aware of the way they were singled out from the crowd. He knew part of their fascination was from what they felt the moment he came onto their resonance scanners; they felt something that was half a spark. Not a bonded spark that had residual energies from their sparkmate; no, without Sideswipe around to complete the resonance, Sunstreaker was literally half a life. There would always be startled gasps and wide-optics staring in his direction. He didn't think he'd ever get used to it as well as everyone else in the troupe seem to.

Finally on the other side of the small thicket, Sunstreaker murmured, "I'll never be normal."

Flashdance slowed his pace, frowning a bit. "So? There's nothing good about normal anyways. Normal is boring."

"It's better than being stared at all the time."

"You are what you are," Flashdance shrugged. "Get used to it."

"Easy for you to say."

Flashdance wrinkled his olfactory sensor. "Don't let it bother you so much. It's not every orn that bots around here get to see something like you."

Sunstreaker couldn't tell the older mech meant that as a joke of if he was making fun of his looks again. To be on the safe side, he decided to be insulted. With an indelicate snort, he turned his olfactory sensor up and refused to say a word to the neon-green bot for the rest of their quest.

Blaze's nitroglycerin and magnesium detonators turned out to be on backorder, but everything else was thankfully stocked on the selves of the endless warehouse. They picked up a few extra trinkets from the place just because they were optic-catching; a couple of rainbow caps that burned all the colours of the rainbow when they were detonated and a couple of civilian fireworks kits that would be fun to set off on the roof of the coliseum.

On their way to the large-scale parts supplier on the same level, they passed by the small alley Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had sneaked down once so many vorns ago. Drawn by a morbid curiosity, Sunstreaker peered down the darkened lane, only to find that not a trace of the rusty old lift remained. It was as if nothing had been there at all. He shivered for no reason, feeling strangely chilled even though the air was so warm.

Once Flicker's necessities were bought and packed up, the drone was sent on its way to deliver its cargo. That left the two stuntbots standing around awkwardly, not sure of where they should go next.

"Home?" Sunstreaker suggested airily.

"I guess..." Flashdance shrugged, making his way to the nearest lift that would take them up a couple levels to the nearest transit terminal.

"Doesn't feel right to just go home right now, does it?" the youngling intoned.

"Not really..." Flashdance tilted a cheeky smile to his small companion. "How about we go hang out somewhere for a bit?"

Suspicious of the smile he was suddenly being graced with, Sunstreaker hesitated before agreeing with a wary, "Okay."

Flashdance did a little jig that made Sunstreaker laugh and grab hold of him so he didn't fall off.

"How much farther do you think you can go away from Sideswipe?" asked the jigging mech.

"A bit farther, I guess," admitted Sunstreaker, though he rubbed his chassis lightly. One of the things they had been testing recently was how far they could be separated; Jetfire had come all the way from Iacon again with a Seeker friend just for the chance to fly the twins in opposite directions to test how far they could go before it was too much. They could move apart a little farther each time with practise, but there were still limits to what they could take. "We're not going very far, are we?"

"No, just up to mid-level near the edge of the city-centre," replied Flashdance.

Sunstreaker thought about it for a moment, trying to visualize the distance. "I think I can do it. It shouldn't be too bad."

"Let's go, then."

They scrambled aboard the nearest lift, took it up to the right level of the city, and then caught the appropriate shuttle craft that would take them to where they wanted to go. By the time they set down again near the edge of the city-centre's boundaries, Sunstreaker was stretched to the limit of how far he could go without Sideswipe. It wasn't that he was in any pain, but it was unnerving to be taken so far from his brother. Like he really was only half a bot. His spark felt as if it were gently tugging in the direction he knew Sideswipe was in.

Flashdance held his small brown companion out in his hand, staring down at him carefully. "How're you feeling?"

"Okay- weird, but okay," assured Sunstreaker.

"Good, it's not much farther now," Flashdance replied. He eagerly nodded in the direction they needed to go. "This is the Rio District, and I'm about to take you to the best place in the whole Centaurie Tetrax territory."

By "best place in the whole Centaurie Tetrax territory", he meant a place called _Spinning Wheels. _It was a pleasure house.

"You're kidding me," Sunstreaker sighed flatly.

"Nope," Flashdance replied merrily.

Before them was the main entrance to _Spinning Wheels_, which was a brightly lit front filled with an amazing mural of beautiful bots all smiling in invitation to passersby. They were of all models, from the smallest microbot to the tallest mech; all colours of the rainbow, accompanied with perfectly proportioned parts. _Gorgeous_. Sunstreaker couldn't help but openly gape at the detail and pure mastery of the mural. He was simultaneously envious of the painter who had been able to capture such amazing lifelikeness and wished desperately for a fraction of the beauty of the figures depicted.

There was a small group of bots lingering out front in a courtyard-type place with several comfortable chairs and benches strewn about. Two of the bots wore the emblem of the place, meaning they belonged to _Spinning Wheels _as escorts or pleasure bots, or whatever else their many functions could be. They were predictably gorgeous, with perfectly symmetrical frames of impeccable proportions. Their angles were sharp and their contours enticing. One was a rich, glossy hue of the deepest red Sunstreaker had ever seen, and the other was an enchanting amber with soft honeysuckle accents. Their companions, who looked to be no more than average bots from regular functions, appeared to be there just to chat, basking in the animated conversation the two pleasure bots were having with them.

As Flashdance hopped the small divide between the pedestrian walkway and _Spinning Wheels_' courtyard, attention was immediately diverted to him.

"Flash!" called the red pleasure bot, waving him over. "It's been so long since we've seen you! We were starting to think you found another house to go to!"

As soon as Flashdance was within range, the pair of bots came over and embraced him as if he were long lost family. They rubbed foreheads to his and stroked his cheeks. As soon as they expressed a wish to greet Sunstreaker as well, and Sunstreaker gave his permission, he was swept into their hands and showered with the kind of attention and affection that made him woozy from the thorough sincerity of it. He was treated as if he, too, were some long lost friend of theirs. They introduced themselves as Elysia and Eros, who turned out to be the premier hosts of _Spinning Wheels_; the absolute best of the best at what they did. Not long after that, they expertly manoeuvred the conversation so as to include their two previous companions. They made making conversation an art form; the way they spoke was both fluent and animated, their attention always centred on the speaker while managing to never neglect the others in their company. In less than a handful of breems, Elysia and Eros managed to make Sunstreaker feel like the most interesting, handsome bot on the face of the planet even though he had barely spoken three sentences during the whole exchange.

By the time Flashdance managed to break away to enter _Spinning Wheels_, Sunstreaker was in an absolute daze.

"_Wow,_" breathed the youngling.

"Yep," Flashdance agreed, grinning.

"Are they all like that?" Sunstreaker wondered.

"Pretty much," replied Flashdance. "They're programmed to be like that. They're supposed to make you feel like a Prime no matter how bad your orn is."

"That's awesome_."_

Taking a seat in one of the more private booths along the edges of the large room they found themselves in, Sunstreaker took him time absorbing the interior of the pleasure house. It was just as exquisite as its outside; the paint was all rich colours that made you feel happy and warm and relaxed, while the lights were soft and welcoming. Sound bytes played gently from speakers hidden about the room; the soft chords of music played in harmony to the soft murmur of voices that was in constant ebb and flow. Booths lined two of the walls, while different kinds of seating arrangements dotted the middle of the room. A stage took up the third wall, while the fourth was taken up by a long bar overseen by a mech who sported more arms than what seemed legal. There was a sign in the corner above a stairwell that announced the lower level as the party room. Next to it was a stairwell going up, labelled as private rooms.

Bots of all makes and models were scattered about the room, some with friends and others chatting with the bots of the establishment. Some sipped energon from fancy carved crystal cubes while others snacked on energon treats that came in all sorts of interesting shapes. A couple of bots were reclining comfortably in their seats, content to say nothing while they interfaced.

"This place is amazing," Sunstreaker announced.

"It is," Flashdance agreed readily. "There are plenty of pleasure houses around, but this is the best one, I think. Everyone likes to come here to unwind; there's no place in all of Centaurie Tetrax that can make you feel better." He tapped into the small pad at the edge of the table what energon he wanted, tapping in a second order of diluted energon for Sunstreaker. It was served up by an animated mech painted the most enchanting shade of violet Sunstreaker had ever seen. He greeted them in the same manor the two pleasure bots outside had, happily boasting to them that he was so happy to see them, that he hoped they enjoyed their energon, and if they needed anything at all that all they had to do was ask.

As soon as he was gone, Sunstreaker stared down at his tiny cube of energon carefully. He'd have to sip it carefully since he wasn't used to drinking and didn't have his feeding tube with him to take it in that way. Testing is first sip, he found that he liked whatever his elder brother had ordered him. Glancing up at the neon-green mech, he asked, "So, why bring me here?"

"Because it's the best place to be able to... you know, talk to someone," Flashdance replied. "It's semi-private, right? And none of the troupe is around to overhear..."

Sunstreaker wrinkled his olfactory sensor. "Why do you want to talk at all?"

"Because I have to get some things off my spark."

"Like what?"

"Like that fact that you and I have never really gotten along. It's wrong, you know? We're family and all... You're my brother. I'm supposed to be the mature one here, but, well, I haven't really been that mature so far..." He was clearly uncomfortable with what he was admitting to, made obvious by the way he shifted around, scratched his head, let his optics wander anywhere but to Sunstreaker.

Sunstreaker frowned. "You think I'm ugly and that's that. What's more to figure out?"

Flashdance flinched. "I don't think you're ugly at all... I'm really sorry that I keep saying that. Sometimes I can't help it when I call you ugly or monster- it just happens. Sometimes I get so..." He shrugged helplessly.

"'_So_' what?"

"So..." Flashdance made a useless gesture. When he usually had oodles of arrogant confidence oozing off him, he was now pathetically withering in his own plating. "Thing is... I'm jealous of you. Okay, there, I said it: I'm jealous of you."

Being that that was the last answer Sunstreaker ever expected to leave Flashdance's mouthplates, Sunstreaker stared at the neon-green mech as if he had grown another head.

"Don't look at me like that," Flashdance sighed.

"How else am I supposed to look at you?" Sunstreaker wondered incredulously. "I'm pretty sure you've just gone crazy. There's nothing about me to be jealous about. It should be the other way around; you've got everything I wish I had."

The older mech twittered a bit, taking a small sip from his energon cube. "Nah, you don't get it. It's got nothing to do with your looks. Before you and Sides came along, I was the youngest one of the troupe. Everything was so perfect: I had everyone's attention. Everyone loved me. Wildride was the best mentor anyone ever could have asked for, and everyone else was so helpful about everything. And then Wildride and Blindside were approved for a spark." He sighed, shaking his head. "It wasn't so bad at first... it was pretty exciting to think that I would have another bot around that was closer to my own age, but then you came along..."

Sunstreaker frowned solemnly. "You never expected twins to come along."

"No one ever expected twins," Flashdance agreed ruefully. "Suddenly, everyone wanted to see the famous twins, and suddenly I was left out in the cold. No one cared what I did anymore."

"Sure they do-."

"Ha!" barked the older mech. "I wish I had _half _the attention you get. No matter what you do, what you say, where you go, you'll always have everyone's full attention. You weren't even an orn old and the whole world was watching you. Everyone was so preoccupied with you and Sideswipe, they all forgot about me... They still do, kind of."

"Flash..." For the first time in a long time, Sunstreaker felt intensely sorry for the older mech.

Flashdance looked away, leaning down to lay his head on his crossed arms. "It's stupid now that I'm saying it out loud, but I don't think I was ready to let go of everyone attention so soon. I miss it." He curled his faceplate farther away from Sunstreaker. "What's worse is that I blame you more."

Sunstreaker felt his spark sink a little lower in his sparkcase. "Why?"

"Because you're the one who... who wasn't supposed to be here. That's a bad way of putting it- sorry," Flashdance amended. "It's hard to put it into words- you're the one no one saw coming. If that original spark hadn't split, then there would have just been one sparkling-."

"You wish I wasn't created?" Sunstreaker asked waveringly.

"No! Primus, no!" Flashdance shot upright, shaking his head vigorously. "Don't get me wrong- _I love you_. You and Sides are family- you're my little brothers! I'd never wish you weren't here! I just get jealous, is all. You get so much more attention than me without even trying; sometimes I wish I could be half as amazing as you are."

"I'm not amazing, I'm just me," Sunstreaker said ruefully, a sad smile turning up the corner of his mouthplates. "I don't mean to take it all away from you. It just happens." He intoned quietly. He scooted forward and rubbed his pincer comfortingly across Flashdance's bright-green forearm. "If I could give you my half of all the attention, I would. I really would..."

"Thanks, little brother." A large hand came out to curl around Sunstreaker, bringing him close to Flashdance's faceplate for a nuzzle-slash-hug.

While Sunstreaker stretched his arms as wide as they would go across the mech's faceplate, he asked, "Is that why you always called me mean things? You were jealous?"

"Yep, that was me being a bratling," Flashdance sighed.

Sunstreaker leaned away in order to stare into the closest optic to him, which whirred and adjusted in order to see better at such a close distance. "Can't you find something other to call me? Something that's not 'ugly' or 'monster'? Those designations hurt."

Flashdance grimaced. "Yeah... you need a better nickname." He sat back, letting Sunstreaker resume his seat on the table. They stared at each other for a sort while before the neon-green mech suggested, "How about 'Sunny'?"

The youngling's instant response was to frown and cross his arms over his chassis. He couldn't decide if it was a good nickname or not, and who knew what Flashdance meant by it. "Why Sunny?"

"On account of your always sunny disposition," Flashdance answered with an impish smile, poking the little brown imp. His earlier guilt melted away.

Sunstreaker smacked the offending finger away, his mouthplates pursing exaggeratedly. "You're teasing me again."

"You're catching on," Flashdance replied merrily. "Besides, I think it suits you really well. Sunny, Sunny, Sunstreaker!"

"Choose another nickname," Sunstreaker grumped. "I don't like it."

Flashdance laughed. "Too late, you're Sunny now."


	17. Chapter 12: Part I

Hey everyone~ Thanks so much for the amazing response in the last chapter! You're all an inspiration to keep this story moving forward. =)

**Queen of the Red Skittle**- lol~ Last chapter simply existed to show how Sunstreaker got his nickname; a little bit of cuteness and fluff never killed anyone, right? =P I'm glad that you like the development of the different facets of Sunstreaker's personality throughout this story~ This is his origins story, after all =P

**Ladyleyn**- Everyone needs a little alone time to be themselves, don't you think? Even twins like Sunstreaker and Sideswipe need to shine on their own once in a while. =P Though, Sunstreaker did just fining shining on like the crazy diamond he is with Flashdance. =) Hopefully the two of them have come to an understanding and the nicknames "Monster" and "ugly" will no longer be making an appearance. ^_^ Although there certainly will be more cameos in the future =P

**Kai-Chan94**- Brother fluff is pretty cute, huh? Glad you enjoyed the chapter. =)

**Lady Tecuma**- Thanks~ Glad you liked the fluff =)

**Peacewish**- Thanks~ Glad you enjoyed the chapter. =)

**MoonstarWorld**- He was bound to get his nickname somehow =P Sideswipe is the kind of bot who is going to love it. XD

**Marinelife37**- He had to get his nickname somehow, somewhere, from someone =P Sparklings and younglings in this series remain in the same frame until they are ready for their apprenticeship, which they will reformat into their first "adult" frame. Moving from the title "sparkling" to "youngling" is just a status change recognizing that a youth is mature and has decided on what future function he or she is going to work toward.

**The Toe of Sauron**- ...um, thanks?

**Teldra**- ^_^

**Balrog Rioke**- I'm happy that you enjoyed the brotherly love between Sunstreaker and Flashdance. Even the siblings who fight all the time tend to have some love for each other deep down. =) Since this story tends to give a new twist on a lot of different aspects of the twins, I figured someone other than Sideswipe giving Sunny his nickname would fit right in. =P

**Bluebird Soaring**- It was just one of those days for those two- the kind when everything that can go wrong does go wrong, and yet everything turns out so right in the end. =P Sunny had to get his nickname sooner or later.

**Lecidre**- Yay for fluff! =D The WE series doesn't get a lot of it as it is, so it's a great treat for both reader and writer when some fluff works its way in. Even better when special readers/friends like yourself enjoy the fluff. =P And I'm sorry a place like Centaurie Tetrax doesn't exist in real life. If it did, I'd totally go shopping there with you! XD And don't worry about it being hard to adjust to the Cybertronian lifestyle of changing "gender" like we change clothes. It's meant to be different like that to play on readers' preconceived notions of sex and gender, turning them upside down if I can. =P

Special shout-out to **FunkyFish1991**: you are the Batman to my Joker. =D

**Chapter 12: Part I**

"Are we there yet?"

"No."

"Are we there yet?"

No."

"…are we there _yet?_"

Exasperated sighs rattled through every stuntbot present. There were even a few irritated noises from surrounding commuters trapped on the shuttle craft with them. Wildride appealed to Blaze to answer the dreaded question this time. He appealed to Thrillride, who smacked Flashance in the leg, who shoved Flicker in the arm.

"Hey!" Flicker protested, though he hardly felt the attack.

"It's your turn," said the neon-mech.

"Oh, right..." It _was_ Flicker's turn to answer, much to his annoyance. He turned to the youngling, sucked in a fortifying drag of air and said, _"Yes, _we're here_."_

Sideswipe instantly perked up. "Really?!"

"No."

The inside of the shuttle craft burst into a tide of good-natured laughter.

With an indignant huff, the youngling threw himself back into his seat. "That was mean."

"And annoying the slag out of us isn't?" Flicker asked exasperatedly.

Sideswipe tipped his olfactory sensor high in the air. "I'm a youngling. I'm supposed to annoy the slag out of you. You're the mature ones. You're not allowed to be mean to me."

"You think this is mean? I'll show you mean…" Flicker threatened as he rubbed the bridge between his optic ridges, clearly chafing under the double pressure of putting up with an anxious Sideswipe and being crammed into a transport that wasn't built to accommodate a bot his size. The thought of dangling the youngling out the window never sounded so good. Illegal, yes, but so, so tempting.

"Now, now, don't make me put you in separate corners," Thrillride chastised soothingly.

"Could you be any more condescending?" Flicker sighed.

"You're making it too easy," Blaze teased.

"He started it," Flicker grumbled, jerking his chin in Sideswipe's direction.

"Nuh-uh, he started it," Sideswipe countered mulishly.

Flashdance shot a cheeky glance to Wildride, hissing in a mock-whisper, "And I thought me and Sunny were the bad ones."

Neither Flicker nor Sideswipe took kindly to the teasing. The bright yellow mech cuffed his smaller brother upside the head, whereas the youngling squeaked verbal abuse.

"Okay! Okay! That's enough- you're giving everyone a headache! If all of you don't calm down right now, I really will put you in separate corners," Thrillride said firmly. Blaze nodded his approval, making it obvious that he was willing to back up his mate's directive.

As further incentive, Blindside wisely added, "Just think of what Flip will do to you if he finds out you've been acting like this in public."

The looks of sheer horror that came across the two bots' faceplates were as priceless as they were guarantees of good behaviour for the rest of the flight.

Sadly, Sideswipe was not the kind of bot that took to doing nothing very well. Three astroseconds after he decided picking a fight with Flicker wasn't a good idea, he was bored again. Sitting for long periods of time in the public transit shuttle was doing nothing for his incessant need to be doing something. In fact, the excess of restless energy was quickly building up to explosive levels. He could feel it in the twitch of his hands, the restless jiggle of his feet. He had to do something before he went crazy and took the whole shuttle craft down with him….

With a great big sigh, the youngling looked up to the fireworks-painted mech lounging next to him. "How much farther to where we're going?" he asked.

"Um, not far, I think." Wildride glanced out the window, trying to judge by the look of the buildings passing beneath them. "We're already in Kaon territory," he announced.

You could easily tell when one territory passed into a another by the look of the buildings. Centaurie Tetrax's architecture usually boasted of lighter-coloured metals like silver-white tungsten, and usually the buildings were topped by creative domes often with murals of some kind. The territory of Tyger Pax, which they had just flown over, was one of the nocturnal territories of Cybertron, one which boasted of one of the best night scenes on the planet. Neon lights glowed from every available surface, beckoning all excitement-seekers to indulge in whatever kind of excitement that particular venue offered. However, during the light of orn, the neon dimmed and the city-centre was subdued. The architecture itself was not unique, but whole skyscrapers were painted up with garish, optic-catching murals and advertisements that would glow at night.

And then there was _Kaon_. Their destination. It was a different kind of territory no matter which way you tried to look at it. It was a nocturnal territory like Tyger Pax, but for entirely different reasons. The dark of night simply seemed to suit the denizens better than the light of orn. It was a territory cast from darker metals than most, with gritty black cast iron and storm-grey tungsten making up most of the structures. The many spires and skyscrapers were twisted and intricate, bent and clawed by age and abuse. Kaon was an ancient territory that always looked like it was in rampant chaos by design, but in truth it was one of the least changing territories of Cybertron.

Wildride knew the territory well from the vorns he'd spent living with the Kaon troupe. Kaon's Art Circuit of Mystique and Wonders was like his second home. The performers there were practically family.

Sideswipe perked up happily. "How much farther to the city-centre?"

Wildride shrugged. "Half a joor more, maybe."

"Half a joor is too long." After being cooped up for what felt like an eternity, which was in fact only 4 long and arduous joors on one of the fastest flying trans-territory transports, half a joor sounded like a death sentence. Sideswipe visibly sagged.

"Why don't you go up front with your brother?" Blindside offered, nudging his creation in the right direction.

Sideswipe stared stubbornly at the pilot's door. "I guess," he finally relented. The reason he'd been out with everyone else in the sitting area was because Sunstreaker had wanted to sit up front to try to paint and didn't want to be distracted. Sideswipe had taken the hint; he was usually his brother's biggest distraction. Hopefully Sunny had all he needed for a good picture, because he was about to get some company.

He moped away to the front of the transport, winding his way through the jungle of feet, wheels, and legs of all sizes. As he approached the cockpit, the doors shushed open for him. There were two minibots in action at the controls, with Sunstreaker perched on the flat ledge in front of the large crystalline window between them. One pilot looked back, spotted Sideswipe, and smiled his welcome.

"Come to join your brother, little one?"

"Yeah."

He was plucked up and set beside his twin.

"Try not to touch anything," warned the other pilot good-naturedly. "You have the best seat in the ship where you're sitting."

"Really?" Sideswipe looked to Sunstreaker. "What do you think? Is it the best seat?"

Sunstreaker brought his head up from the tablet he was furiously scribbling on, blinking at his brother as if just realizing he was there. "Oh, yeah, it's the best. You can practically see right into the next territory from here." He quickly went back to sketching, his little optics darting back and forth from the landscape to his screen furiously.

Sideswipe felt his brother's intense concentration and enjoyment, happy that Sunstreaker was having such a good time. Instead of ruining the moment, he contented himself with scooting to the brown youngling's side in order to peer back and forth between the sketch and reality, watching the slow progress of the picture develop, Whenever something didn't look quite right, he pointed out. Sometimes his observations were politely acknowledged, and sometimes he got a whack on the head by the tablet.

It wasn't much longer before Sunstreaker decided that enough was enough. He saved what work he had and filed it away in the tablet's memory bank. He'd work on it later, probably once they were all settled into the circuit they were visiting. It wasn't like he really needed the skyline to do the picture anyways- he was just taking inspiration from it to create his own impression of the territory: haunting and monochromatic.

"Aww, you don't have to put it away because of me," Sideswipe pouted. "I'll be quiet. I promise!"

"It's fine. I like talking to you more than I do ignoring you."

Sideswipe's faceplate lit up as he leaned over and hugged his brother with exaggerated enthusiasm. "Awwww, you light up my spark like sunshine every time you say something like that, Sunny! I love you!"

"...and it's back to ignoring you now," Sunstreaker sighed flatly, attempting to pry his twin off. If there was one thing that could get on his nerves, it was his new and unshakable nickname. It had spread through the troupe like a virus, with no signs of going away. It was always 'Sunny this' or 'Sunny that' and Sideswipe seemed to have taken to the nickname with an even greater enthusiasm than Flashdance did; he used it enough in a single orn to wear it out.

"Don't ignore me, Sunny! Don't ignore me!" Sideswipe whined, still playing with exaggerated enthusiasm.

Sunstreaker crossed his optics as he was rocked back and forth by his brother's clambering. "I can't believe we come from the same spark."

The two pilots in the cockpit with them laughed at the minor show. Who would have guessed that such a special pair of twins could turn out to be such a funny pair of goof-balls, too? It was a treat to listen to a pair of young ones so lively and playful with each other.

The playful teasing lasted a little longer until one of the pilots warned them to settle down as the aircraft banked left. They smoothly flew into the steady stream of air traffic flowing like multi-coloured ribbons across the sky.

"We're coming up on Kaon's city-centre," announced one minibot, allowing his co-pilot to announce it to the rest of their passengers. The first pilot was kind enough to point in the right direction for the twins to look in. "I guarantee you two have never seen anything like this place."

The twins scrambled to their feet in order to press their faceplates to the window, looking around for the sharp rise in spires that would usually mark the outer boundaries of the centre. To their utmost confusion, they came upon none.

"There's nothing there," Sideswipe whined.

"Look again," insisted the pilot.

Stubbornly, Sideswipe turned back to the window just in time to be hit with a spike of shock from his brother.

"Look at that!" crowed Sunstreaker, banging his pincer against the window.

Sideswipe gaped at the sight coming up on them. _"No way."_

True to their pilot's warning, the twins had truly never seen anything like Kaon's city-centre. Unlike all other capitols, which generally rose several levels above the surrounding territory, Kaon's centre was sunk into a giant pit. It dropped off so suddenly, its edges hidden so well amongst the twisted shapes of the ancient spires around it, and the shuttle craft was flying so low, that it seemed to come out of nowhere. It wasn't a natural valley, either. Not a dip in the surface set lower than its surroundings. It was an actual pit cut so deep into the surface of Cybertron that not even the tallest spires built within met the free air above. It gave the place the look of a spike-lined trap hole. The shape was a perfect circle, utterly unnatural in its clinical perfection, yet so large that its diameter stretched out beyond the horizon.

"That is the coolest thing I have ever seen," Sideswipe breathed.

"Isn't it?" said one of the pilots cheerfully. "Kaon's pit is the largest of its kind. It fits the entire city-centre and then some." The shuttle craft began to descend into the giant dip, skimming along the cliff-straight walls rising all around; they weren't solid walls, but a cross-section of the planet, a slice of life displayed in every level they passed. There were many balconies and landing pads jutting out from the sheer walls, with a constant stream of fliers landing and launching from them. Next to them were immense lifts groaning and chugging along on giant hydraulics and pulleys to bring flightless bots from the bottom of the pit to the top of the rise.

"We're going down there?" Sunstreaker wondered.

"Right to the very bottom," confirmed a pilot with a grin. "You and your troupe will be getting off at the second stop, which is a short drive from the coliseum you're going to." He picked the pair up and shooed them to the door. "Maybe you should get with the rest of your family so you're all ready to hop off when we get there."

"'Kay," chorused the twins as they made their way back to their troupe. As the ship descended into the depths of the sunken city-centre, Blaze was kind enough to support the twins against the windows so they could watch the world rise up around them. First they stopped at a mid-level terminal to let off some passengers, waving out the windows to passing bots who happened to recognize them. The second stop, their stop, was at the very bottom level. They descended so deep into pit that the sun and sky were blotted out, cloaking the streets in a permanent shroud of shadow.

Wildride was the first to bound off the transit, looking excited to be in Kaon again. "It's so good to be back!" He took a deep drag of air, savouring the lingering lukewarm scents of ground iron and stale air. "Isn't this place the best??"

Behind him came the rest of the troupe, peering around curiously at their new settings. There may have been no sun to light the streets, but there was an abundance of neon lights to be found. Long ropes of glittering lights hung from the fronts of buildings, snaking their way down the sides of buildings. They weren't as pretty as the ones that lit up Tyger Pax. Kaon's lights were more garish, the shadows they cast were longer and darker. As soon as their transportation took off for its next stop, the sounds and smells and weight of the territory pressed in from all sides.

Blindside cast an unconvinced looked around. "If you say so, dearspark."

"We should get to the coliseum soon so we can settle in," Thrillride suggested. "We have a lot of work ahead of us if we're going to be learning their routines. I'd like to have a berth to lay down on beforehand."

"I'd like a nice cube of energon," Flicker intoned, collapsing into his alt mode so that he could be loaded with the luggage the rest of his brethren had brought. It wasn't much- nothing too large or heavy- just certain particulars that each of them thought appropriate to bring when spending so much time away from home; replacement parts for their frames, spare plating, equipment for speciality tricks they planned on performing, etc. The smaller items like personal stashes of polish and lubricants were stored away in subspace of the bots who owned the items.

"I'm sure they'll have some when we get there," Thrillride assured. She stretched her limbs high to shake off the cramped feeling of sitting all orn in transit, and then gracefully collapsed into her alt mode. The others followed suit accordingly, with Wildride and Blindside opening their hatches for the twins to clamber in and harness themselves up.

"Just to give you all a bit of a heads up, the streets are a little tricky down here," Wildride warned. "They don't always match up with the city maps, so you're all going to have to follow me closely," He revved his engine, veering off onto the transport way with a screech of tyre and Sideswipe crowing wild encouragement to go faster.

Quite used to such displays, and in fact expecting something like this to happen, the rest of the troupe revved up and shot off after their brother as shot down the streets like a living embodiment of the fireworks he was painted with. What everyone was quick to realize in the deep capitol of Kaon was that the only rules of the transport ways were that _there were no rules_. It was a fast paced drag race, competing with every manner of commuter possible for the right to stay on the road. While there appeared to be signs and lights for directing the traffic, they appeared to be there for decoration. Security Response bots zipped up and down the congested lanes, though their efforts looked to be in vain.

It took a moment for the Centaurie Tetrax group to catch on to the each-bot-for-himself mentality. Wildride, already well aware of the rules of the road, streaked ahead of them with reckless abandon, muscling slower bots out of his way. Realizing the only way they were going to keep up was by playing by Kaon's rules, Blaze and Flicker rumbled side by side down the transport way, using their size to shunt commuters to the side while Blindside, Thrillride, and Flashdance zipped behind them comfortably.

Luckily, their destination was not that far away. While it took quite a bit of weaving in and out of the main roads, they eventually found the right exit and zipped their way into a lively part of the city. It was an entertainment nexus, with delights of every kind lined up as far as the optic could see. The carnival-like atmosphere was a strange mix of welcoming fun with the undercurrent of oddity and incongruity with reality. The streets and buildings were painted, garish like the lights, twisted in ways that forced you to stare instead of looking away, hypnotizing you to enter the establishment. Street performers roamed up and down the lanes performing their tricks right alongside vividly painted merchants who peddled their eclectic collection of wares to the tourists and locals alike.

At the end of a large circular court stood the main attraction in all its dark beauty: the Art Circuit of Mystique and Wonders. It was an ancient monument whose gritty metal had turned black from eons of loving abuse from its users. Lights of glowing acid-green and sharp violet hues were roped in web-like patterns across the facade, catching on the tiny shards of crystal set into the metal, blinking like beady little optics. It wasn't a place that screamed of light-sparked fun like the Centaurie Tetrax Exhibition and Performance Circuit. This coliseum whispered of dark seduction, with clawed fingers crooked in invitation to passersby. It reeked of two-faced smiles and glittering double-edged claws. A place where pleasure and pain came together, possibly the same thing.

What was interesting to note was that someone had come along and vandalized the sign above the entrance, crossing out the glyphs that spelled 'Art' and replaced them with 'Dark'. It now read 'Dark Circuit of Mystique and Wonders'.

More interesting: no one had bothered to correct the mistake.

Clearly the Centaurie Tetrax bots had been expected, since the front doors shot open as they all assumed their bipedal modes, minus Flicker.

"Oi! If we knew you were going to be this late, Wildride, we could have gotten a few more joors of recharge," boomed a hulking mech as he charged forward, swooping the fireworks-painted mech off his feet and into a crushing embrace. "You forget that Kaon's a nocturnal territory? I haven't been up this early in eons!"

"Sorry, sorry, I forgot that you guys were nocturnal! I've been away for too long," Wildride laughed guiltily, prying himself out of the large mech's arms, only to be surrounded by the rest of the Kaon troupe. He grinned and hugged them all, banging his forehead to theirs with enthusiasm. "The transit was a little late picking us up at the terminal, and it's been a long flight here. You know how trans-territory flights can be- they always stop in every little nook and cranny to pick bots up. I would have sent a communiqué ahead to warn you that we'd be late, but it kind of slipped my mind."

One of the Kaon stuntmechs barked a rough laugh, grasping Wildride's hands affectionately. "You always did move faster than your head could keep up."

"It's part of my charm," replied the fireworks-motif mech.

Sideswipe rocked wildly on his creator's shoulders, lost in the tide of shadowed murals coming in from all sides. Accustomed to the enthusiasm of his own troupe, being caught in the tide of this new one was no great surprise. He laughed and let himself be jostled around. The colours were different, the spark resonances strange, and the words a little gruffer and less censored, but he knew fellow performers when he saw them. Great performers, from what Wildride had said of them. Wild ones, full of thrills and danger. As dark and alluring as their coliseum was.

"Alright, alright, alright, calm down everyone," Wildride laughed, waving his arms above the crowd. "Motormaster, straighten them out, will you?"

The violet mech who had first gotten a hold of Wildride boomed a deep, gritty laugh. "Anything for an old friend." With way too much enjoyment in the act, he grabbed the backs of two of his bots and tossed them away. He grabbed two more and lobbed them to the side. Everyone who was now sprawled on the ground squawked their objections to such poor treatment, which Motormaster guffawed at. "Quit embarrassing yourselves, you half-bits. He just got here and you're making him want to leave again."

"Nah, never, no way. I'd never want to leave. I'd just perfer it if I had my own personal space back," Wildride laughed. "This place is practically my second home!" He spun around to his silently gaping mate and brethren, spreading his arms wide for them. "Everyone, I would like to introduce you to my second family! This is Motormaster, the director of the circuit here, and Dead End, Breakdown, Drag Strip, and Wildrider!"

For all the touring the Centaurie Tetrax circuit did, and for all their friendliness with other troupes, this was the first time anyone other than Wildride had had the chance of meeting any of the Kaon performers. After a stunned moment of everyone wondering if they should welcome each other as family or observe some sort of formality, Thrillride ducked into a tiny bow of greeting. The rest of her troupe did the same. Wildride scratched the back of his head, a little embarrassed by the formality, shrugging to Motormaster haplessly. The large director chortled and offered a brief, less formal bow of his own while his fellow stuntbots bobbed their heads.

As soon as that was attended to, Flashdance canted his head to the side. One name in particular was of interest to him. "Wildride..._er_?"

The mech in question cast a jaunty wave, curling a handsome smirk across his faceplate. "That's me," he asserted. To the Centaurie Tetrax performers' surprise, his frame was an exact replica of Wildride's. _Exact copy_. Right down to the custom spikes jutting between the plates. The only difference was that Wildride was painted with all the colours of a fireworks show while the doppelgänger was a midnight black.

Blindside's startled gaze slid from his mate to the smirking clone. "Oh dear," he sighed. "That's... interesting." And by 'interesting' he meant 'Oh Primus, that's a headache in the making.'

Wildrider barked a sharp laugh. "Like it?" He spun around so as to be seen from all sides. "I reformatted after Wildride left us the last time so that we could keep a little bit of him around. I think the frame suits me, you know? All showy and flashy. I like the frills a lot."

"Too bad you're not as good looking as the original," Wildride preened vainly.

"I make up for it in skills, buddy. _Skills,_" teased Wildrider, prodding the fireworks-painted mech.

"Only in an alternate reality," Wildride laughed back.

"You're in _Kaon_. That's alternate reality enough," Wildrider exclaimed.

Blaze leaned up to Flicker and muttered, "One glory-hound was enough; two is going to kill us," to which the large, yellow mech nodded emphatically.

Sideswipe wrinkled his olfactory sensor, staring back and forth between the teasing adults. "And I thought me and Sunny were supposed to be the twins around here."

The Kaon performers jumped, suddenly realizing that there were little ones around. In all the excitement of welcoming Wildride back into their fold, they had completely forgotten to pay attention to their spark scanners. Now they were acutely aware of the strange little bots lurking in their vicinity.

"Well, well, look what Wildride's been hiding from us," Motormaster boomed. "One of the twins, I presume?"

"I'm the awesome one," Sideswipe replied with a grin.

"Are not!" Sunstreaker screeched.

A dark blue hand shot out and snagged Sideswipe off his creator's shoulder. He hadn't asked for permission to approach, leaving the youngling too surprised to squawk his objection.

"What a curious thing you are," Dead End intoned, turning the little bot around for better inspection. "Never seen a youngling this close before. You're so tiny."

"Such a bright red colour, too," Breakdown said, his own paint a glossy red colour a couple shades darker than the youngling.

"We're not big on keeping up on the news, so which one is this?" Drag Strip enquired, one optic ridge raised.

Wildride beamed proudly. "This one is Sideswipe." He gestured to Sunstreaker, who subtly hid himself against Blindside. "The other little one is Sunstreaker. I hope you don't mind that we brought them along- they've never been to Kaon before, and I figured this would be a perfect opportunity to see it. There's nothing on Cybertron quite like being here."

"True enough. It's fine with us that they stay," Motormaster shrugged. "So long as they don't get themselves into anything they're not supposed to. We're not used to having little ones around, you know? No Youth Sector in Kaon for that sort of thing. They'll have to mind themselves around the coliseum and our stuntbots."

"They'll be on their best behaviour, I swear. You won't even know they're there," Wildride assured, stealing Sideswipe back in order to catch the youngling's optic. "Isn't that right, Sides? _Best. Behaviour_."

Sideswipe grinned guiltlessly. "Aren't I always on my best behaviour?"

Flashdance discreetly snorted in the background.

Dead End sighed and looked about, noting the crowd they were drawing. He gestured to the gaping entryway of their coliseum. "Come on, everyone. Let's move this inside before the crowd we're drawing starts impeding traffic. I don't feel like talking to Security Response this early in the evening if someone calls them."

They took their cue to wander in, curiously looking about themselves at the vastly different atmosphere the Kaon circuit projected. Dim lights, shadowed corners, and the lingering feeling of seduction and sordid magic hanging in the air.

Thrillride ran her finger along a dimly glowing vein of blue paint that swirled along the wall. "My, your style here is so... _alluring_."

"Thanks, we try. It fits with the general theme of Kaon, don't you think? A little bit different, a little bit darker- everyone has that curiosity to see the other side of darkness, you know?" Drag Strip replied, casting a handsome grin over his shoulder. "If you weren't bonded, I'd show you how really alluring we can be, especially for our guests." He winked to the femme. She giggled, though Blaze didn't seem to find any humour in the flirting.

Flicker revved his engine a little, becoming annoyed with the fact that he was still stuck lugging everyone's stuff. "Mind showing me a place to unload? I kind of want to stretch my legs a little."

"Oh, right, we'll show you to the quarters you'll be staying in," Motormaster said, guiding the large group down a series of hallways into the spark of the coliseum. Along the way, he kept up a commentary of the different facilities available in the coliseum, as well as imparting his gratitude that they had been able to come. "I can't tell you how relieved my troupe and I are for having you come all the way here to help us out. If you hadn't of come, we might have had to cancel all of our shows for the season."

"It's the least we could do. You are the troupe that took care of Wildride when he went AWOL on us a while back, after all," Blindside said kindly, squeezing his mate's hand.

Wildride grinned. "Besides, it's our off-season, so it's not like we would have been doing much anyways. By the way, how are the others doing? The way you described it, it sounded like a pretty nasty virus they got infected with."

Motormaster shook his head. "They're doing better, but the medic that's been in to see them says it will be a while before he can straighten out all the corrupted data. They're out of commission for a while."

"That's unfortunate," Blindside sighed.

Wildrider shrugged his matte-black shoulders. "Don't feel too bad. It's not like they didn't deserve it a little. You just can't go around without firewalls and antiviral programs here. Sooner or later, you're gonna catch something nasty. They just happened to catch something _extra_ nasty and pass it around to others."

"I am _so_ glad I updated my antiviral software before coming here," Flashdance said, seconded by several of his own troupe.

They finally came to a nondescript door in a long line of doors down a quiet hallway. Obviously the barracks part of the living quarters, complete with the soft sounds of recharging bots sequestered out of sight. The particular door they came to was roughly near the end of the left side of the hall, shushing open to reveal a cleared out room set up with berths to accommodate everyone. By the looks and smell of things, it had been recently cleaned and aired out.

"Sorry that we can't offer more than this," the Kaon director sighed. "Our private rooms are being used as quarantines for our infected bots. That won't be too much of a problem, will it?" His gaze lingered between Blindside and Wildride, and then Thrillride and Blaze.

"It's fine," Blaze assured. "If any of us feel the dying need to bond, I'm sure we can find a private place to do it away from here."

Flicker rumbled into the room ahead of everyone else and threw his side hatches open. "Okay, time for everyone get their stuff before I shake it out," he announced, which had Blindside, Thrillride, Flashdance and Blaze digging into him immediately. The twins helped somewhat, though it mostly consisted of them pointing out helpful spots in the room for things to be set down in. Wildride, for the most part, hung back in the doorway to exchange a few last words with his friends before he, too, settled into his new living quarters for the next little while.

Sideswipe, ever the nosey one, kept an audio tuned in to the exchange. He didn't hear anything amazingly interesting. A few lines about being great to see each other again. Looking forward to getting to work and learning the new routines. Bringing in a painter soon to repaint the Centaurie Tetrax bots so that they will fit in better with the theme of Kaon's circuit. Letting everyone get some rest and allowing them to adjust to living nocturnally for the time being. Sideswipe realized he'd let his eavesdropping distract him from his "work" when he found himself shaken out of Flicker's interior so the mech could transform.

The large yellow mech stretched out, groaned, and then announced, "Forget a cube of energon, I'm ready for some good recharge right now. Getting across three territories today really took it out of me."

"You didn't do any work, though. All you did was sit in the shuttle craft while others flew it," Sideswipe pointed out.

"I had to listen to you, didn't I? That's tiring enough," Flicker teased, wandering to the back of the room where the largest berth was. He flopped down on it with an appreciative groan. "I am going to catch some recharge and hopefully be able to reset my chronometer to work the night instead of the orn."

"I think that's what we should all do," Blaze agreed, stretching out on the berth he was claiming for himself and his mate. "We don't want to waste too much of this troupe's time with our diurnal tendencies."

Wildride sighed, finally breaking away from his Kaon friends. "Fine, fine, recharge now. Whatever." He swept into the room to twirl Blindside off his feet and onto to berth they would share.

Sunstreaker started to climb up the ladder along the side of a berth that he was intent on claiming as his own, but was stopped when a small hand grabbed his skid plate and pulled him off.

"We're not tired," Sideswipe exclaimed stubbornly. "Can we explore for a bit instead?"

"Perhaps later when someone can go with you," Blindside offered, casting a brief look to Motormaster, who still lingered in the doorway. Sideswipe appealed to the director with his infamous and well-practised optics of innocence.

"_Please?"_ he begged. "Me and Sunny will be good, I promise. We won't touch a thing."

Motormaster quirked an optic ridge, shrugging. "It's fine by me." As reassurance to their troupe, he said, "the rest of my bots will be getting up soon, so we'll be able to keep an optic on them. Just so long as they stay in the coliseum, though."

"We promise to stay in the coliseum!" Sideswipe crowed, bobbing up and down eagerly. Sunstreaker nodded a less-than-enthusiastic acquiescence.

Blindside shared a look with Wildride, and then confirming with Motormaster, before smiling down on the twins. "Fine, go have fun."

"Yes!" Sideswipe whooped, snatching his brother's pincer and making a run for the door. They were halfway down the hall before Motormaster's booming voice caught up with them:

"Careful where you go, little ones," he warned teasingly. "This place is haunted enough without you two getting lost in the fray as well."

And even though the director was only joking, the twins had the most curious sensation that he was also right about the haunting.


	18. Chapter 12: Part II

Oh, how I enjoyed writing this chapter! It was so much fun! I practically wrote it in one sitting because I was so inspired! XD I do hope you all enjoy this~ Even if you may get lost in some of the more... _convoluted_ dialogue, I really do hope you have fun while having everything you've ever known challenged by No One. =D You know you wanna talk a walk in Wonderland, end up in Oz, and secretly wonder if the writer of this series is on some serious drugs.

But enough of that- who clicks into these things to listen to the author ramble? No one, that's who. First **Thank You Corner**, and then on to the story itself! ^_^

**Reaper mendez**- Thank you so much~ I'll try to keep up the great work~ =P

**SEZwho94**- Oh, there shall be some trouble for the twins, alright. The question is, will they get out if it unscathed?

**Queen of the Red Skittle**- Don't you just love it when such blatant foreshadowing is handed out? XD Shit shall be hitting the fan soon enough, my friend. =P

**Ladyleyn**- There is bound to be more than little confusion inspired by Wildride and Wildrider, and knowing that pair, they're bound to do everything they can to make it worse! XD The twins, by nature, will soon be finding themselves in trouble. No worries about that... ^_^;

**Kai-chan94**- Ain't that the truth? Sometimes I wish it wasn't illegal to drug some kids just to get some peace and quiet while driving. x_x

**Balrog Roike**- It seemed only fitting that the bots who actually have 'stunt' in their title be stuntmechs in this story. Felt like a crime against nature otherwise. XD It's strange how you mention things that lurk beneath the surface... there certainly will be some of that appearing in this chapter...

**Jessie07**- Thanks so much! That really means a lot~ I try my best to write good stories for others to enjoy~ I do hope you continue to have fun reading. =)

**Lecidre**- It would have been a crime not to use the Stunticons in this story as stuntmechs! They're the only truly canon stuntmechs in the G1 universe, so it was only right to include them! XD I'm glad that you enjoy the descriptions I give of Kaon and it's capitol being one giant pit. I loved creating the cities~ And be sure, there are a few secrets Kaon holds in its pits.

**Faecat**- Yeah, best behaviour for the twins is generally not best behaviour by everyone else's standards... But they always seem to come out of their trouble generally unscathed. Hopefully the same could be said for the trouble that awaits them this chapter...

**Bluebird Soaring**- Listen to those feelings of yours, my dear. That really dark evil you feel lurking about, it's closer than you think. The 'train wreck' that is the wonder of the twins and their propensity for trouble may meet their match in the bowels of Kaon...

Special shout out to **FunkyFish1991 **for her invaluable aid in proofing most of what I write. I can't remember if she looked at this chapter or not, but what the heck! I love her anyways! 8D

**Chapter 12: Part II**

"We're free! We're free! We're free!" Sideswipe sang merrily as he danced his way through the halls. His carefree voice riddled off the dark walls joyfully, pattering dance steps clicking in a funny musical rhythm.

Obviously, the freedom of having a whole coliseum to explore was going to his head. The Dark Circuit of Mystique and Wonders was big. It was dark. It was so fragging awesome that the word awesome didn't even cover it! Sideswipe didn't even know where to start with his exploration. The common rooms? Practise stages? Backstage? The arena? So many options, not enough computing power to think of them all at the same time!

Sunstreaker followed close behind at just a plain walk, not so interested in dancing his joy. He was intrigued about the place, with all its dark nooks and crannies, but he wasn't about to go crazy for it. Sideswipe was currently going crazy enough for the both of them. It was Sunstreaker's job to stay calm and reserved so Sideswipe didn't end up feeding off any extra excitement. So he stayed mellow, maybe a little aloof, shuffling down the corridors after his brother, absently absorbing the dark beauty around him.

Wherever they went, the halls and rooms were bereft of all life. It was still too early in the evening for the Kaon bots to be active. Some were beginning to stir, dragging themselves out of their dormitories to the nearest energon dispenser, but most were still deep in recharge. It would be a while before they were online, practising their stunts in earnest. The Centaurie Tetrax bots, on the other hand, would remain offline until the morning rolled around again. For the time being, the twins were left to their own devices.

"Do you really think this place is haunted?" the red youngling wondered excitedly.

Sunstreaker considered his surroundings carefully; he was surrounded on all sides by the colours of gloom and twilight- deep blues, purples, and blacks, accented by a surprise slash of vivid red or acid-green. The light was dim and the shadows deep; the kind of place that could be fully explored yet still left in mystery. It was the perfect place for a wandering spark to lurk or a wayward shadow to run across a wall unfettered. The stuntbots here had done well to create such a haunting atmosphere.

In the end, Sunstreaker returned his gaze to his brother and said, "No, not really."

Sideswipe stopped dead in his tracks, his expression incredulous. "Why not?"

"I don't think anything can be really haunted," shrugged the brown youngling. "There's no such thing as ghosts, is there? Not in real life. That's all stories meant to scare little bots."

"What about the things Flip sees?" the red youngling pressed. "He says there are things all around that not everyone can see. He says that there can be dead sparks lingering about and only _special_ bots can see them."

Sunstreaker frowned. "That's what Flip _says_, Sideswipe. Who knows if it's actually true? He's always saying strange things, isn't he? He's just a strange old mech."

"Then how do you explain what we saw when we fell down that lift shaft, huh?" Sideswipe demanded, puffing up a little. "That wasn't just a story some bot told us- we _saw_ it."

"Why do you always bring that up?" Sunstreaker sighed, scrubbing his pincer against his faceplate in frustration. "Can't you forget about that? Everyone else has."

"I'm not going to be like everyone else, because everyone else is stupid. I won't forget about Prima and Vector, or ghosts, or anything else that Flip says is real."

Sunstreaker's optics flashed, his faceplate darkening into something stubborn and reluctant. "Sides, listen to me- We. Don't. Know. What. We. Saw. We were young and hurt. We could have made it all up because we were scared."

"We didn't!"

"Then there has to be some other explanation for it, because ghosts and avatars and the Original 13 Transformers don't exist. They're just made up stories," Sunstreaker exclaimed, crossing his arms across his small chest. "There are some really smart scientists all over this planet; don't you think if any of that slag was real, someone would have found evidence for it?"

Sideswipe's mouthplates fell open, shocked to find that his brother, his own freaking _twin_, was choosing to be so stupid. Adults were usually the dumb ones who didn't want to believe what was right in front of their optics! But even as he reached out to his brother through their bond, Sideswipe found a barrier full of reluctance keeping him at bay. "So that's how you really feel about it?"

"You're not going to change my mind," Sunstreaker sniffed.

Sideswipe stomped a foot. "Fine. You can be stupid like every other adult on the planet thinking that the only real things in the world are the things you can see. I'll be the smart one and know better." He spun on his heel and began to march away beneath the bleachers of the arena, his hands clamped over his audios.

Sunstreaker sighed and decided to indulge in the immaturity by asking, "What are doing?"

Without looking back, Sideswipe loudly replied, "I'm shunning the non-believer!"

"Oh come on-!"

"_SHUN!" _

Sunstreaker slapped a pincer to his faceplate. "Are you serious?"

"I'm shunning you!"

"Sideswipe, grow up!"

"Shunny- Sunny! Shunny-Sunny! Shunny-Sunny!"

Sunstreaker bristled. "That's it! You're gonna get it!" He took off like a bolt of lightning after Sideswipe, who immediately squealed and took off running the moment he realized Sunstreaker was coming for him. They weaved their way deeper and deeper into the dark spaces beneath the bleachers of the arena, tripping and squealing all the way.

At first Sunstreaker really did mean to pound his brother's faceplate in for all the teasing, though soon found that he was laughing at Sideswipe instead and began to simply chase him for fun. Sideswipe felt the change in the chase the moment it happened, more than happy to keep running and squealing for fun. They bounded together through the maze of bleachers, streaking out across the arena floor to the other side, where they dove into the backstage area and kept running. Their laughter, squealing, and pattering footfalls echoed off the walls, getting lost in the labyrinth of dark halls and empty rooms.

Sideswipe finally slowed down to let himself be caught by Sunstreaker. They both tumbled to the floor in a heap of laughter, tickling each other as they rolled. Their little wrestling match quickly came to a close as they ended up rolling into a great heap of dust, coating their plating and smothering their vents. In a great fit of coughing and flailing, they cleared their vents and wiped their optics clean.

Sideswipe cast a wary glance about, noting that nothing looked familiar anymore. The walls and floor were grey with age, dimly illuminated by dusty scrawls of chipped glowing paint on the walls and floor, veiled by layers of dust. A general feeling of abandonment lingered over every dusty surface. Everything laid in the general disarray usually found in abandoned places. Nothing had disturbed this part of the coliseum for a very long time. The atmosphere was so essentially different from the coliseum itself, it didn't even part of the building.

"Where are we?" Sunstreaker asked carefully, turning a slow circle.

"Don't know," shrugged Sideswipe. "I guess we took a wrong turn somewhere." Movement out of the corner of his optic caught his attention. It looked like someone ducking around the far corner. "Did you see that?"

"See what?"

"I think there's someone back here with us. Come on, I bet we can catch him!" Sideswipe took off again into the blue-tinted gloom, chasing shadows on walls. Because there was nothing better to do, Sunstreaker ran obediently behind. At the very least, he could make sure his twin didn't get into any trouble.

Following the strange figure was very much like a game. While the twins never did see an actual figure running ahead of them, they did hear the staccato of his running steps, and often did they see his shadow slipping out of sight. Sometimes their mysterious runner would speed up to a point where the twins would almost lose him, but then he would suddenly slow down until it felt like they were almost on top of him.

As they ran, the ground steadily began to slope downward. The walls changed from the even, manufactured cut of Cybertronian-hewn metal to a more natural, untouched form of metal. At the end of their chase, the twins ended up stumbling into a large underground cavern easily the size of an arena. It was a vaguely familiar space, with its swirling blue phosphorous stalactites, crumbling statues along the ways. A creeping breeze crept through the atrium, stale, dry, and unwelcoming. With the motion of the air came the pattern of footsteps renewed, followed in time by a darting figure along the walls. Now the twins could see the shadow they had been chasing properly; it was of no shape they could identify as Cybertronian, though its presence was blacker than black upon the wall. Like a stain.

Sharp laughter carried on the stale breeze, no more than a whisper from a ghost yet in the silence it was deafeningly loud. It wasn't the nicest kind of laughter, either. Cruel and cold like a frigid blast of wind. Patterned with the laughter were footsteps that echoed along the walls, running without a source. No, there _was_ a source, but it was only the blacker-than-black shadow. And if that was the source, then that only posed another question; what was the source of the shadow? There was nothing around to make a shadow dance like that. Nothing the twins could _see._

Sideswipe backed up carefully to Sunstreaker, grasping his pincer. "You see it?" he murmured cautiously, not daring to look away.

Sunstreaker frowned, grasping his brother's hand tightly. "Yeah."

"What is it?"

"I don't know."

Sideswipe steeled himself as best he could, though there was very little he could do to disguise his trembling. In as brave a voice as he could muster, he asked, "Who are you?"

The shadow on the wall froze instantly. In the blink of an optic, it was gone.

Startled, Sideswipe cast a glance around the large cavern. "Hello? Are you still there? Did we scare you?" No answer. Stumped, the youngling tried again, "Hello? We're not here to hurt you! We just wanted to know who you were."

"_I am No One." _came the whispered reply, stale air breezing across the side of Sideswipe's faceplate.

Sudden squeals of terror filled the atrium, ringing off the impossibly high ceiling. Sideswipe tried to run one way, Sunstreaker attempting to run the other. Their linked hands ensured that neither would get far. Their screams cut short as their arms jerked them back, their heads smacking together from the momentum. They went to the ground in a writhing heap, squealing all the way. Around them, every molecule of air felt replaced by laughter. Laughter so cold that the temperature, already disturbingly low, dropped a few more degrees.

Sunstreaker was the first to pick himself up, dragging his brother up with him. "Come on, let's get out of here. I don't like it here."

"Fine by me," Sideswipe squeaked.

They turned to scuttle out of the haunted cavern, only to hear an entreaty to stay ring off the phosphorous-covered walls.

"Wait, wait, wait, don't go so soon, my little pets. Terribly sorry- I frightened you, yes? I have such little company down here, I forget not everyone appreciates a good scare. Stay a little while. Talk to me. Play with me."

Sunstreaker tugged insistently at Sideswipe's hand. "No, really, let's get out of here."

Sideswipe resisted, curiosity getting the better of him. "Wait, you want us to play with you? Are you lonely?"

"Yes," came the answer.

Sideswipe shook his hand free of his brother's grasp. "Okay, I'll stay to play. What did you say your designation was?"

"No One."

To their horrified fascination, the strange dancing shadow slid along the contours of the wall until it reached an edge. Where most shadows would have stopped when the wall stopped, this one kept going. It peeled itself off, becoming flat and flimsy in the air, wavering on see-through legs before collapsing into a puddle of black oily shadow. It laid right in the twins' path, preventing them from going anywhere. Who knew what would happen if they tried to run through the stuff?

A long, thin arm reached up out of the oily pool, grabbing a handful and pulling up. A head was pulled out, followed by a neck, shoulders, and the rest of the body. On its feet again, the thing revealed itself to no longer be a 2-dimensional trick of the light. It was now a 3-dimensional trick of the light. There were too few words, or perhaps too many, that could describe what the twins saw. No One appeared to be so tall that its head and shoulders disappeared into the gloom above and yet, at the same time, so small that it could have disappeared into a crack in the floor. No One had many features of indistinguishable purpose, appearing to all be thrown together at random. Too many arms and legs. Horns and spikes that jutted from strange places. More fingers than there was room for on the hands. Too many necks, only one head. Metal that was bright and dark, dull and glossy, all at the same time. The details mashed together in a truly disturbing experience of the monstrous. There was so much to look at that a very curious thing happened the longer you stared; the more you stare, the less you saw, until No One became almost invisible.

The creature looked as if he were formed from solid smoke. Or a metal made of gas. Cold flames licked at its feet when it shifted weight. The light cast from the brief fires turned out more darkness than light.

If there ever was a physical embodiment of Chaos, this would be it.

All that mattered, though, was its optics. Optics that stayed steady no matter how greatly its outlines blurred, featured shifted. Optics that could see farther, look deeper, and know more than any other living creature in the universe. They were optics that the twins had never peered into before, but nonetheless they were curiously familiar optics. They were as amber as the finest jewels.

"You are the strangest creatures I have ever seen," No One announced, whose voice was made up of mech, femme, minibot, and microbot pitches, all at the same time.

The twins cast bizarre stares to each other, not quite sure how to reply to such a statement. When they looked ahead again, they discovered that the shadow-bot was no longer standing far ahead of them, but right in front of them barely a breath away. No One bent low and stretched up at the same time to inspect the curious creatures that had found themselves in its territory. It walked one slow circle around them. A few pokes here and there delivered touches that were as cold as statue hands, as cold as ice. When it returned in front of them, it blinked its luminous amber optics and said,

"Yes, you are truly the most bizarre things to ever have existed."

Sunstreaker, despite his fear, found room to be affronted. His olfactory sensor wrinkled, his mouthplates pulling down. "That's not fair- have you even _seen _yourself?"

The creature drew back, optic ridges arched. "No, of course not! How can I see myself if I don't exist?"

"But you do exist!" Sunstreaker snapped.

"How do you know?" wondered No One.

"You're right there. We see you," countered the youngling.

"Must you believe everything you see?" asked the creature.

"That's the only way to know if things are real," Sunstreaker replied stubbornly.

"Things that you think are real are only a figment of your imagination," exclaimed the solid shadow, who then laughed so loud that the twins had to cover their audio receptors. As the laughter died away, the creature said, "For things as strange as yourselves, you're awfully stupid."

"We're not stupid," Sideswipe pouted. As scary as the thing they were talking to _looked_, it didn't _sound_ like a threat. It actually sounded a lot like Flip, if not a little more nutty. "I thought you wanted us to play with you."

"We _are_ playing," No One replied happily.

"Playing what?" Sideswipe moped.

"Mind games," replied the creature, amber optics glittering. "But you're awfully stupid at them."

"We're _not_ stupid!" Sideswipe crowed, stomping a foot.

"Ah, but if you weren't stupid, then you'd be smart, and if you were smart, you would know that not everything you see is real, and everything more real than real is invisible because reality gets in the way of really seeing." It snapped its fingers. "And see? Now that I've told you that, you are smart, because you can't be stupid when you know such a smart truth."

Sideswipe stared, his mouthplates gaping a little. Oh yeah, this thing was definitely a nuttier version of Flip, complete with making his head hurt. Sunstreaker stood in complete silence, trying his hardest to work out everything the fast-talking shadow was saying.

"How could you have told us such a smart truth if you don't exist?" posed the brown youngling.

"A very good point, my stupidly smart pet," replied the creature, who then sat down and stood up at the same time. "Since I am not here because I do not exist, you obviously already know the truth, therefore I am only a figment of your imagination repeating the truth back to you because you have somehow forgotten it. You are only creatively reminding yourselves of something."

Sunstreaker arched his optic ridges, crossing his arms over his chest. "But if you're a figment of our imaginations, that means you're actually invisible."

"Very invisible," confirmed No One.

Sunstreaker nodded. "And didn't you just say that things that are invisible are more real than reality? So that must mean you're more real than real, meaning you exist more than we do."

For a moment, their strange company sat and thought the statement over, and then it's chaotic optics lit up. "Oh, what a smart little stupid pet are! Indeed, something such as myself must be a thousand times more real than you!"

"I don't get it..." Sideswipe pouted.

"Oh, it's quite easy to understand," assured the shadow. "I am No One after all, and no one is the same as nothing. Nothing is everywhere, and since everything and everyone are also everywhere, I must be everything and everyone on top of being No One and nothing!" His hands clapped together excitedly. "I must be reality itself!"

"If that's true, then reality is really strange," Sideswipe laughed, still reeling with confusion.

"Exactly!" the shadow exclaimed merrily. "Reality is chaos!" Laughter came again, carried on a stale breeze of cold air that prickled along the twins' plating like red-hot ice.

"Um, well, I guess that makes sense," Sunstreaker intoned carefully. He was quite proud of himself of working through such a riddle.

Sideswipe sniffed, scratching the back of his head. He looking around the phosphorous-lit cavern they were standing in. Eerily familiar, just like No One. He cast No One a curious look. "Are you the one that haunts the coliseum?" he asked. "Motormaster warned us that the coliseum was haunted." He shrugged a little. "But I don't think we're in the coliseum anymore, anyways."

"There you go being stupid again, my pets." No One shook his head patronizingly. "The coliseum _belongs_ to me. This whole territory, in fact, belongs me. It's been mine from the very beginning- maybe even before the beginning. _You're_ the ones haunting it."

"We can't haunt it if we're still alive," Sideswipe countered.

"Of course you can, or else you wouldn't be doing it."

"Only dead sparks haunt things," Sideswipe insisted.

"Do I look like a dead spark to you?" No One asked, sounded a little affronted.

Sideswipe tilted his head, sizing up No One carefully. "Honestly, I don't think I've ever seen a dead spark to know."

"Well, now you know what a dead spark _doesn't_ look like," No One replied, gesturing to itself. "I've never been alive to be dead, nor have I ever been dead to be alive. The living are much closer to death than things that have never lived. That's simple deduction. Being so much closer to death, you must be the ones who haunt the place, not I."

Sideswipe thought very hard for a moment. He watched those glinting amber optics, hypnotized by their ancient, jewel-bright depths. "If you're not a ghost, are you... an avatar?" No One laughed like a very funny joke had been told, so Sideswipe decided an avatar couldn't possibly be what No One was. Next he asked, "are you like Prima and Vector, then?"

No One suddenly froze, optics flashing. "Now what would make you think a thing like that?"

Sideswipe drew away a step, Sunstreaker following closely. "You're optics are strange like theirs- the same colour. You're not dead, but you're not alive either... so you must be like them."

No One's demeanour shifted, changed. He suddenly felt as sinister as he looked. "I am like them, yes, but not one of them." A long finger whose outline was blurred in the gloom, ran along Sideswipe's faceplate, freezing him inside and out. "There are more things in this universe than you could ever possibly understand, little pet."

Sideswipe jerked away, tucking his faceplate away from No One's touch. "Someone said something like that to us once. Our director, Flip. He sees things, too. Things that others can't."

Again, the mentioning of certain designations seemed to make the creature's optics flash, his expressions churning like a storm. "I have no doubt that Flip sees things. I bet he Sees things more than you realize." No One chuckled, though all of his mirth appeared to be gone. "It seems everyone is waking up just to get a glimpse of you. My, how special you must feel. What special game pieces you must be to them..."

The twins shook their heads. At the moment, they didn't feel special at all. Their hands twined together tightly. Their games of exploring the coliseum weren't so fun anymore. No One definitely wasn't anymore fun.

"We just want to go now, okay?" Sideswipe said quietly, Sunstreaker nodding quickly.

"And if I don't want to let you go?"

The twins looked to No One in horror.

No One smiled a wickedly poisonous smile. "Yes, I very much like the thought of keeping you here. Forever."

Forever sounded like a very long time to the twins. They didn't like the sounds of it at all.

As No One's stinging words stopped echoing in the cold air, the ground beneath their feet trembled minutely. Awareness prickled along their armour again, a frightening presence more immense than even No One making itself known. So terribly huge it dwarfed all else. The twins were paralysed by the feeling of someone, or something, stirring around them. Unseen currents shifting. Power rising. Expanding. The air pressure became so intense that they could scarcely drag air into their intakes. The trembling beneath their feet steadily intensified in earnest, like a stampede of giants coming their way.

No One sensed the shift as well, expanding into every crevice of the cavern and beyond. Fury was evident on his incomprehensible features. "You think you can send them into _my_ territory? Have them all attack _me_?" Flames suddenly enveloped him. Frigid cold flames that cast more shadow than light. His furious blazing optics turned to the twins, who shrank away instinctively. From within his twisting mass, No One procured two small, black toys tiny enough for the younglings to hold. He did not hold them out, and the twins did not move to take them, but suddenly Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were holding devices and No One was backing away.

"If you ever feel the need to be invisible and see the world for what it really is, just use those," No One said lowly to them. Fury and poison laced his words, the power of it stinging the twins' audios.

The stampede was bearing down upon them. The whole atrium was alive with the thunderous noise, so much power barrelling down on the place that the floors, walls, and ceiling churned like the waves of a storming sea. A blast of warm, sweet air hit the cavern hard. Like an explosion. It threw the twins to the floor. The world around them exploded into chaos as new shapes roared across the walls. Shadows of all shapes and sizes, moving so fast it was impossible to see where one ended and the next began. Many arms and legs, horned heads, gigantic frames, armour plating, swords and claws drawn for battle. Flashes of amber light where blazing optics should be. Howls of outrage erupted from them. They collided with No One like raging titans. Like unstoppable forces of nature clashing.

And in a flash, they were gone.

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker remained on the ground for a long time, too terrified to move.

"Is it over?" Sunstreaker wondered, pincers covering his head.

"I don't know," Sideswipe replied, too scared to look up.

They cried out when they heard the echo of approaching footsteps. Not the staccato of No One's skittering steps, but the steady clip-clop rhythm of something with four legs. It walked with a limp. The twins buried themselves deeper in the dirt in hopes of hiding from whatever was coming their way. A sweet breeze wafted back into the atrium just as a curious shadow glided in along the walls, following the contours of the uneven spaces. It was a four-legged creature whose torso jutted up above it, head held high, shoulders broad and straight. A centaurian-looking thing. Most notably, it walked with a limp, as if it had just come from battle.

Hoping the thing would just pass them by, the twins kept huddled to the ground.

The shadow did not leave. It watched them for a little while, clipping one of its front legs against the ground as it waited. When it became obvious that the twins were prepared to wait until the pit rusted over before they got up, the four-legged shadow-creature called out gently to them. "Little ones." His voice was soft and sweet and soothing. "Little ones, I see you."

With a shudder, the twins responded by burying themselves deeper.

A chuckle drifted from overhead. "You can get up now- there's no need to hide. No one's going to hurt you."

The twins squealed in terror.

"Sorry, poor choice of words," apologized the shadow. "What I meant was, you're safe now."

"Oh yeah? How do we know? Who are you supposed to be?" Sunstreaker demanded, muffled as he was with his faceplate mushed to the floor.

"Centauron, the Seer," their company announced, a smile evident in his tone. "You should know me quite well, I should think. I am the patron guardian of Centaurie Tetrax, after all."

Sideswipe peered up. Sunstreaker warily tilted his head. They had to look up and up to see the head of the shadow waiting on them, amber optics glinting like bejewelled beacons.

"What a terrible habit you have of getting into trouble," Centauron admonished fondly. "No matter, we chased him off. This is his territory, though. He'll be back. It's best you return to your family before they get worried." He had a strange voice, echoing with eons passed and times yet to come, and sounded like someone the twins couldn't quite put their fingers on.

Finding themselves inexplicably trusting of the new creature, the twins got to their feet, clinging to each other. Their shaking was uncontrollable. Moving on memory alone, they ducked tiny bows to Centauron, just as they had been taught so many vorns ago. A soft, warm chuckle drifted down to them, their shadow company's torso peeling away from the wall in order to bow in return.

"You must go back the way you came," he instructed, pointing them in the right direction. The tunnel looked lighter than it did when they first ran down it. "Going back the way you came is the only way to go back at all."

Sideswipe canted his head, once again hit by déja vu. "Because that's how these kinds of things work?"

"Of course," concurred the Seer. "Go on now. Run along."

"Will we see you again?" Sideswipe wondered.

"I should think so, yes. Whether you recognize me or not is another matter," Centauron replied. He made shooing motions with his hands. "Now don't dawdle. Run along."

As if by a spell, the twins picked themselves up and started running down the debris-strewn path. Their legs carried them as far and fast as physically possible. They didn't stop running until the green and violet lights of the coliseum flashed around them and the sounds of lively laughter fluttered to their audios. By the time they came darting out of the labyrinth of corridors and backways of the Dark Circuit of Mystique and Wonders, the poor creatures were panting hard. They tumbled faceplate-first to the floor, heaving air through their vents to cool down.

Sideswipe struggled to lever himself onto his forearms, staring down at his brother. "Well?" he wheezed stubbornly.

"Well what?" Sunstreaker gasped in reply.

"Do you believe now?"

Sunstreaker covered his optics, his whole frame shuddering. "I don't think I have a choice."

A large pair of feet suddenly appeared in front of them, sizable hands coming down to scoop them up.

"Now what in the name of Primus have you two been up to?" Motormaster wondered, stupefied to find the twins so tuckered out. They'd barely been gone or a joor or so.

"Nothing," they murmured in unison.

The Kaon director arched an optic ridge, spying the strange devices still clutched in the twins' hands. "Nothing, huh? And who gave you those little things if you've been doing nothing?"

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker exchanged spooked looks. "No One."


	19. Chapter 12: Part III

Been a while, yes? Sorry about that, my dear friends. I hope this chapter makes up for the absence~

**SEZwho94**- There is much to be done with No One's gifts, my dear. Curiosity and temptation are a devilish package, and the twins might not be able to resist...

**The King of Pain**- Glad you liked the supernatural tones. They're my favourite to write. =P No One is Psi, the devil himself. You're very intuitive. ^_^

**Ladylyne**- Ahhhh, so you saw right through No One's charade and saw the Fallen, did you? He's a sneaky one with so many faces. The Kaon troupe may or may not know the Fallen; sometimes you don't even know it when the devil is standing right in front of you. It's only a matter of time until the twins give into temptation and find out exactly what their gifts do.

**Bluebird Soaring**- The twins are, indeed, a mighty prize to be fought over by the _Other_. Who wouldn't want a playing piece that was split into two, that you could be in two places at once with. You're on the money when you say the Fallen was No One. He's a dangerous breed with many faces.

**Ladyofthedrgns**- Well, if the Twins did recharge, I bet their nights would only be full of nightmares. =( You think No One is like Hannibal Lector? Score! That's awesome! XD

**katiesparks**- Is it wrong that I consider my job down right knowing that at least one reader was frightened? =P

**Faecat**- Hahaha, you may be one of the very few creatures in the universe who likes No One. I'm one of the others. =P It is a strange creature, but just as fascinating. You're welcome to play, but be warned that your mind may not survive. XD

**MoonstarWorld**- *nods* The twins do indeed connect a lot with the world of the _Other_. Or perhaps it is the other way around? Maybe it is the _Other_ that reaches out to connect with them?

**Balrog Rioke**- No, it's never a good thing when you're the plaything of _Other_ things. The Twins, unfortunately, don't have much of a choice. =( Their roles in the future will be whatever fate decides. I don't even know yet. =P

**Queen of the Red Skittle**- No One was like Jack Sparrow, eh? That's awesome. XD I've never seen Battlestar Galactica to understand the comparison between the mythos, but I'll take your word for it that the O13 are similar. ^_^; Why the twins See what they See, though... could be for any number of reasons. Perhaps no one told them they couldn't?

**Jessie07**- The twins attract strange things much like a flame attracts moths. As for what happens... you may have to read to find out. =P

**Lecidre**- Oh my goodness, your description of trying to walk through a haunted house is exactly what I think of all of Kaon! It one giant gothic haunted house! XD No One's mind games got the better of you, did they? Don't worry, I think there were many others who found their heads spinning from it all. =P It's funny that you say No One/The Fallen is my incarnation, because- in a way- he is. I really do adore him! XD

**FunkyFish1991**- *pats head* Yes, my dearest fish, you did see this chapter before it was posted. You see about 70 percent of my work before it goes up! I don't know where I'd be without you! XD Thanks for the suggestion to listen to "Clubbed to Death"- it was pretty cool. I hope you don't mind that I settled on the album _Carnival of Lost Souls_ by Nox Arcana. I downloaded the whole thing and it's bizarre how fitting it is! O,o Did I really get you with No One's dialogue? Really? That's awesome! Knowing that I tripped you up, of all readers, is like a home run! XD Oh- and if you are still frothing over the devices, you shall discover what they are in this chapter. ^_^

**Shizuka Taiyou**- It was supposed to be mind-boggling. =P

**Starry-Night**- Yay! A new addict- er, I mean _reader_! =P There's so much more in this story to write, so don't worry about it ending any time soon! XD

**Two Shout outs: **

**FunkyFish1991**, you are the obsessive artistic Sunstreaker to my lazy, attention-deficit Sideswipe~ I love you anyways. XD

And to the musical group Nox Arcana for their album _Carnival of Lost Souls, _which has been serving as the soundtrack for the Twins' debacle into the bowels of Kaon.

**Chapter 12: Part III**

Watching the last performance of the season was like watching magic unfold. The darkest kind of magic, where the shadows danced and the glow of the performers' optics entranced turned deep and hypnotic. Sensual movement was timed to haunting music, time slowed to a crawl. An unbreakable spell was weaved over the audience, drawing them into the story being told.

It was the story of two identical sculptures, played by Wildride and Wildrider, falling in love with the same artist apprentice, played by Blindside. The sculptures' desire for the apprentice brought them to life, each determined to win the bot's affections in order to be made into real transformers. With each act performed in the arena, the tale was spun to new heights. The audience was drawn into the story, both delighted and haunted by the visions being served to them in a feast of movement. They bore witness to the unravelling of a tale full of magic; the everyday kind, as the sculpture whose intentions were true pursued his love interest with refreshing acrobatics and teasing choreographed numbers, and dark magic, as the sculpture who merely wanted to live made bargains with every sort of shadow to win the apprentice's affections, displayed through twisting contortions and high-speed daredevil tricks that had the audience gasping.

Dotted throughout came the presence of other characters. Blaze played an imposing Fallen character, breathing fire over the heads of the audience as he tried to bargain for everyone's sparks. Thrillride took on the role of a high-spirited avatar trying to convince the sculptures to do the right thing. Flashdance was immersed on the floor throughout every dance routine, taking several complicated solos and whipping the crowd into a frenzy with his flashing movements, shining black lights bringing to life the swirls of UV paint that now crawled the length of his frame over his now midnight-blue plating.

Not that the Kaon troupe was left with nothing to do. Their acts were normally much darker than the tale being told this season, but they embraced the new spice their Centaurie Tetrax brethren brought in. They were so much more intense than what the outside troupe was used to. The music was blaring and haunting, the rhythms they moved to screamed of things that moved in the darkest of night. Whatever part they played in the show, the Kaon bots sank into the role and revelled in it, bringing the shadows to life, delighting and frightening their audiences with death-defying tricks and blinding light-shows.

Since this was the last show of the season, the acts seemed especially intense.

Sunstreaker tilted his head as he listened to Motormaster's rich voice pour from the speakers as the sordid tale continued. Beyond the glass of the VIP booth, he could see his least favourite part of the show playing out. Wildrider was flipping and twisting in the centre of the arena while darkly painted lightcycles prowled around the edges like pit-hounds and hungry demons. From the darkest corner of the stage came a plume of fire, announcing Blaze's entrance as the Fallen, appearing in order to make a dangerous bargain.

Shuddering, Sunstreaker let his optics fall back to his lap where his tablet still lay, its screen bright with his latest sketch. It should have been a vague impression of the frame he would like built for him soon, patches of colour scribbled here and there as possibilities for paint. But he couldn't concentrate on the image. Scattered around him were several digital catalogues depicting the four frame models he might be interested in- mech, minibot, femme, or microbot- and the menagerie of different variations he could have in each category. His downloads as a youngling were quickly coming to an end. Soon he would be ready to be reformatted into an adult frame and take on the life of an apprentice painter. Until then, he still had to decide what kind of frame he'd like to live in. And until he could concentrate on that, images of No One and the other things that lurked beneath the city were going to dominate his work.

Next to him, Sideswipe sat with his faceplate pressed against the glass, his attention engrossed in the performance. He, too, was wholly aware of how quickly their time as younglings was coming to an end. The passing of the season in Kaon had given them much free time to download all that they needed for their chosen functions. Given what happened during their first orn in the territory, they had been too subdued to do much else. With each orn that passed, Sideswipe grew more attentive of the performances, aware that the orn would come when he would be the one performing. Unfortunately, he was a little less interested than Sunstreaker was in what frame he would take in reformatting, deciding that he would take whatever model the troupe suggested would be best to get started in.

"Hey, hey, look," Sideswipe suddenly whispered, nudging Sunstreaker with an insistent hand. "You see the symmetry there, Sunny? It just gets better with every performance. I don't know how they do it."

Sunstreaker peered up for a brief moment to watch the Mirror Dance, one of the key acts in the show that put a Cybertronian's ability to mimic to the test. The arena was divided down the middle, with Wildride and Wildrider on either side, each with an accompaniment of bots whose outer plating was adjusted to make them look like a perfect mirror image of either side of the arena. They moved as if both were mirror images, too ghostly and surreal to be reality, gyrating to the hypnotic music and lights. The only way to tell either side apart was by their optics- Wildride maintained his bright azure optics, but Wildrider, having sold his spark to the Fallen, now had red.

Given the Cybertronian fascination with symmetry and their instinctual affinity for mimicry, it was a sight that ensnared optics, enthralled sparks.

Sunstreaker must have been a little more jaded than the average spark, because he managed to look away. "They've been practising hard, that's how they do it," he said.

Sideswipe's faceplate pursed a little, though he didn't dare look away from the window. "If you're not enjoying the show, you shouldn't be here."

Sunstreaker sighed. "Sorry, I don't mean to be a downer." He smiled softly when he felt his brother's attempts to cheer him. Soft, cajoling brushes to his spark. Fluttering little touches that tickled. "Thanks."

Sideswipe still didn't look away from the Mirror Dance, but it was obvious that he was smiling. "You're welcome."

For a short while, Sunstreaker was given a reprieve to work on his sketch in peace. Not that much peace came from working on this particular visual. No matter how hard he tried to capture what was in his mind, he could never translate it to the screen. Just when he thought he got No One looking right, he suddenly looked very wrong. He always looked wrong. That seemed to be the charm of being No One. And it only became worse the longer he stared at the image, his pincers hovering over it, stylus poised. Sometimes, when the lights were all turned off and everyone else was recharging, when he couldn't sleep and tried to work, he'd stare at the picture and feel like someone was staring back. His plating would prickle. Cold chills would run through him. Sometimes the picture _moved_.

With a sigh of disgust, Sunstreaker saved the file and brought up a second project. This was a picture that didn't move. Didn't whisper things in the silence. But it was just as haunting. The shadowed silhouette of Centauron the Seer, calming and frightening at the same time. He was a vague shape of four legs and a powerful torso. Little else had given way to the shadows. The only truly defined detail was the optics. Optics that burned bright, bright amber, more alive than any picture had a right to be. The picture was mostly finished, but every time he brought it up, there was always something small he could tweak. Adjusting the lighting, playing with the tint of the blue phosphorous. Changing hue and contrast. The only thing he never had to touch were those optics.

Around him, the noise of pounding music and energy faded, lights coming on.

"Intermission," Sideswipe announced, wandering away from his perch at the window to plop down next to his brother. He took a peek at the picture currently up on the tablet screen. "Centauron again?"

"I can't get him out of my head," Sunstreaker admitted, gently stroking his stylus over haunting shape.

"Don't worry, I can't either," Sideswipe intoned, resting his weight on his spread palms behind him. "I feel like there are so many things watching us, but we're being kept in the dark. Weird, huh?"

"Maybe not," Sunstreaker shrugged.

Sideswipe stared for a moment, then sighed. "Yeah, maybe not."

"There's no one we can even talk to about this, is there?" Sunstreaker murmured, tapping listlessly at his tablet screen.

"There's Flip," Sideswipe offered, though his tone sounded unsure.

Sunstreaker involuntarily jerked away from his tablet. His gaze met his twin's, sharing a thought that had no words to translate. Finally, the brown youngling shook his head. "Flip would give us a straight answer... in the form of a riddle."

"True," Sideswipe conceded ruefully. There was a beat of silence, then: "Have you wondered what those things No One gave us were?"

"I try not to think about them," Sunstreaker replied. Those innocuously sinister little objects laying hidden amongst their stuff in their dormitory. Hidden where no one else would find them. Like shameful little secrets. No matter how hard they tried, they couldn't bring themselves to get rid of them.

"Do you ever want to find out what they are?"

"Sometimes."

Sideswipe wrinkled his olfactory sensor, then said, "Yeah, me too."

Sunstreaker sent him a discreet look, sensing something odd from his brother. An odd kind of mischief. Curiosity, but not the normal kind. He shook it off with a subtle frown. "Let's not talk about it here, okay? Too many bots around."

"Oh, right." The red youngling looked about him as if he were just realizing there were other bots around. "Too many bots."

With an expert flick of his pincers, Centauron's picture was gone and finally his frame concept took life on the screen. He tipped the tablet for Sideswipe to see. "What do you think of this?"

Sideswipe appraised the sketch carefully, grateful for a subject change. "Nice."

"Nice? That's it?"

"Um... it's really nice?"

Sunstreaker pouted, turning the tablet around so he could pour over the image. In his opinion, it was a very handsome design. He'd downloaded nearly two dozen fashion catalogues from all territories, all frame models, to make sure he was up-to-date, knew what looked good, what was considered fashionable, what was considered handsome and "in". He had been careful in designing, knowing that this was only his first frame, that he was only going to be an apprentice painter, that his looks still had to be toned down and reflect his inexperience. There were too many downloads out there detailing the mistakes eager young Cybertronians made, reformatting into a frame that went beyond their experience... That was something Sunstreaker was trying hard to avoid.

In the end, he'd chosen a mech frame. It was the most generalized of all the models, the most common frame younglings reformatted into for their first frame. The build of the frame was sleek, maybe a little thinner than a normal frame for that height, but given that he was to be a painter, the function of his frame didn't matter as much. It was a sporty shape, with sleek contours, tempting wings of metal arcing from his arms, off the casing on his legs. Long limbs, dexterous fingers- basic four finger and thumb design, though extra joints were added. He was Tetraxian, so of course his design reflected his territory of origin. The telling folds in the armour, the tilt of his optics, the distinct way his frame as a whole stood; all unique to Centaurie Tetrax. It was the faceplate he had invested the most attention in. Angular optics, piercing, with an azure blue glow. Smooth planes of interlocking metal for a faceplate- nothing jutting, though the angles were mildly sharp. Flexible metal around the mouthplates, detailed interlocking plates, making the features expressive. The cranial crests were still vague, undecided. There were so many designs to choose from, so many statements he could make with them.

Even though the frame was still only an idea, Sunstreaker was already in love with it.

The brown youngling was about to open his mouthplates to speak his mind of exactly what praise he felt his future frame deserved, only to feel a pair of curious optics peering over him. Clamping his mouthplates shut, he tipped his head back to see who it was. A handsome mech stood there, a narrow, sharp faceplate staring down. Swaths of bold red, blue, and white colour enrobed his eye-catching plating. He was designed in such a way that there was no telling what city-state he hailed from, but there was no need. Sunstreaker recognized him immediately. He nearly squealed.

Sideswipe was not so enlightened. His tone was rather annoyed as he asked, "Can we help you?"

The mech tilted his head, straightening fluidly. Embarrassment flickered across his features. "Oh, I'm so sorry- I couldn't help but notice all those frame catalogues. Curiosity got the better of me."

Sunstreaker raised a stunned pincer, pointing dazedly. "You're... you are..."

The mech extended a regal hand, politely brushing against Sunstreaker's pincer with a fingertip. "Tracks, at your service."

Sunstreaker really did let out a delighted whimper. _Tracks._ One of Cybertron's foremost amazing frame designers. He basically _dictated_ what styles were going to be in fashion in what territory at what time. His catalogues were like the dogma of the fashionable. While Sunstreaker continued to figure out his future frame, Tracks basically served as the centre of his world. Suddenly meeting him here, in reality, was a thousand times better than mooning over his poster that hung in the twins' shared room next to the autographed poster Flashdance had given them... of himself.

Sideswipe stared at his awestruck brother, and then sighed. "I'm Sideswipe, and that one's Sunstreaker. I think he's in love with you."

Sunstreaker instantly snapped out of his daze. "I am not!" His optics shot wide, gaze snapping to Tracks. "That's not what I meant! I _do_ adore you! I mean- I adore your work! Your designs are amazing! I'm in love with your work!"

Tracks smiled warmly. "I'm flattered."

Sideswipe, still not recognizing the mech, rolled his optics. "I'm going to get some energon, 'kay? You want any?" he asked of his brother, already inching for the stairs that would take him to the floor.

Sunstreaker regained enough wit to close his gaping mouthplates and shake his head. "No... thanks," he sighed, never taking his optics off of Tracks. The mech was so intensely handsome. Perfect... _everything_. Awe and jealousy stirred in the youngling, mixed with longing and a little bit of hero-worship. Tracks was everything he wanted to be.

"Suit yourself," shrugged the red youngling, hopping down the stairs in search of energon he could heist for free from backstage.

Now alone with one of his greatest idols, Sunstreaker sat a little straighter and tried to school his features to make it look like he was totally nonchalant about meeting the world class designer. He only managed to tone down the unadulterated awe a little. He couldn't slow his racing spark. The hopeful glitter in his optics. Although his twin was gone, Sideswipe's humour of the situation rang through loud and clear, only serving to mortify Sunstreaker further. He scrambled for words, but found that he had nothing intelligent or amazing to say. Instead, he blurted, "You're really Tracks!"

"Yes, I am," Tracks replied helpfully.

"_Wow."_ Again, Sunstreaker tried to be cool about things, but then blurted- "What are you doing here? I mean here in Kaon, in this coliseum..." He wanted to smack himself over how stupid he sounded.

Apparently accustomed to inspiring such reactions and random questions from the public, Tracks smoothly inclined his head and answered, "I had heard that this circuit was hosting a small group from Centaurie Tetrax this season; critics have been absolutely raving about the show they've been putting on. I've been short of inspiration for my designs as of late, so I thought a little jolt to the Capitol of the Night would inspire me. Alta Trius is never quite as alluring as this place."

"Have you been inspired yet?" Sunstreaker asked, leaning in eagerly.

"Oh yes, I dare say I have," Tracks replied, no shortage of amusement as he gazed out the crystalline windows of the VIP booth to the arena below. "Kaon itself has always been a fascinating place, so very darkly alluring. It never fails to unveil something new every time I come. This time, it is the Art Circuit of Mystique and Wonder that holds the crowning touch."

Sunstreaker felt pride flood him. He was raised amongst stuntbots, after all. They were his people. He was proud that his family could inspire others. "They've worked very hard to get the show as it is."

"You can tell a lot of effort was put forth," Tracks said, nodding. He reached for a stool and dragged it over, settling in it. He tipped Sunstreaker a handsome smile that quite possibly outshone the sun. "I have a feeling my designs might take a turn for the gothic if I spend any longer here."

"I know what you mean," Sunstreaker said with a shake of his head. "Try spending a whole show season here and then see if the only colour you can work with is black. I swear, I see it even when I recharge!"

"Black can be fashionable if worn correctly- on the right frame, suited to the right personality. However, too much of the same thing becomes awfully dreary. Too monochromatic." Tracks's curious gaze once again landed on Sunstreaker's tablet. "I take it you are an aspiring artist?"

Sunstreaker hugged his tablet to his chest. "I'm downloading to be a painter soon."

"How wonderful," Tracks replied with a smart little clap. "I've always admired painters. I may be able to come up with the designs for frames and match colours to the right shapes, but there is something to be said of creating whole other worlds with a splash of paint or the turn of a stylus. Is it too much to ask to see what you have done? From one artist to another?"

Sunstreaker's optics lit up. "Oh, that would be wonderful!"

From subspace, Tracks pulled out his own tablet. According to him, it was the mark of a great artist to always have an artistic medium on hand; you never knew when inspiration would hit. His tablet was a smart, sleek, expensive accessory that made Sunstreaker gape anew. Syncing their tablets, Tracks used his stylus to quickly copy and drag the files Sunstreaker indicated, enlarging them to fit his own screen.

"You're very good," he said generally of the first picture. "You've been practising a lot, yes?"

"Since my first vorn," Sunstreaker admitted nervously.

"Some bots would kill for natural talent like that." He flipped through the artistic pieces with a critical optic. He wasn't a master painter, but he had a good optic for what looked good and what didn't. He was especially helpful when it came to anatomy. Sunstreaker sat by, stewing in a brew of eager nervousness, occasionally pointing out certain details about a specific picture being analyzed. With each artistic work passing under the designer's critique, Sunstreaker grew further lightheaded until he feared he might keel over and embarrass himself.

Finally the perusal came to a halt as Tracks ended on the last sketch- Sunstreaker's possible future frame. He was quiet for a while, tipping his tablet this way and that with thoughtful consideration. "Very handsome," he admitted as he looked up and met Sunstreaker's anxious gaze. "You still have a lot to learn, but that's what apprenticeships are for. What I see here is a fantastic base of potential." He tapped Sunny's frame design. "This, in particular, is very nicely done. I can tell you've done your homework on frame fashions for it."

"_Thank you,"_ Sunstreaker breathed reverently. "I haven't worked on it much, but I've poured through all your catalogues to get the right looks. I looked through other designers too, but they don't have the same finesse you do. I _love_ your designs."

Tracks smiled again, laughing a little, accepting the compliment as his due. "Have you ever thought of being a designer? I could use an apprentice like you. You certainly have an optic for what looks good."

"Oh! No, I never really... I mean, that sounds pretty great and all, but, well... I have my spark set on being a painter." Sunstreaker offered a sheepish shrug, not sure what else he could possibly say. He really did want to be a painter, nothing else.

"My loss, I suppose," Tracks replied easily. His stylus tapped Sunstreaker's frame design. "I like what you've done with my designs- making them your own, especially in the joint area. So many extra folds in the plating allows for a greater amount of flexibility, yes? Very fluid and light."

Sunstreaker nodded. "Yeah, it's a standard design for performers. Since the troupe is all I know, I guess I wanted to keep a little bit of the troupe with me always."

Tracks nodded, then zoomed in on the optical design. "What model are you planning on using for optics? For an artist, I would suggest something with a wide range of visual options- night vision, infrared. The wider the colour differentiation range, the better."

Sunstreaker shrugged. "I don't know yet. I've been looking through optics, but I can't decide what looks best."

The designer nodded. "It can be hard to decide on something so important for your function... Oh- here, I'll give you the model number for my optics. They're an excellent series." He scribbled a quick note on the side of the picture. "While I'm looking, is there anything you'd like me to help with on this design?"

"The one thing I'm having trouble with the most is the cranial crests," the youngling sighed. "I've been through all the catalogues, but I can't find anything that..." he waved his pincers a little helplessly, "you know, says _me_."

"Crests are a very important part of the head design. They say a lot about a bot," ceded the designer. He pondered for a while, even going so far as picking up one of the tiny data catalogues near Sunstreaker's feet and downloading it. His optics lit bright as an idea hit him. "Have you thought anything of fins?"

"Fins?" Sunstreaker wondered, wrinkling his olfactory sensory. He only knew a few bots with fins, one being eccentric Wheeljack with his light-up crystal fins, and the others were all pleasure bots he'd befriended.

A finger was wagged in the youngling's faceplate. "I know that look. Trust me on this, the fins I have in mind are perfect! You'll look fabulous!" Suddenly, Track's stylus was away on him, gliding over the tablet in quick, sure movements. He spoke while he drew. "It's a little racy, but I think you can pull it off with the rest of your frame. I remember seeing the design when I was a youngling myself. It'll give you a bit of a retro-pleasure bot look, classy and sharp, but toned down enough by the rest of the frame that you shouldn't be mistaken for an actual pleasure bot. Trust me when I say they'll only enhance your other features- there! Done."

With a grand sweeping gesture, Tracks copied his work and dragged it to Sunstreaker's tablet. The youngling eagerly took in the additions to his frame, his mouthplates gaping. The design of the fins were unique, that was for sure. Sharp edges that jutted out, curving up. Not quite like a horn design. Something else entirely. Artistic, with a dangerous edge. Sassy and sleek. With fins like that, everyone was going to look at him with envy whenever he walked into a room.

"What do you think?" wondered the designer, leaning in.

"I love them!" exclaimed Sunstreaker, entirely sincere. "They're exactly what I was looking for! Thank you!"

"You're very welcome."

The lights flashed dim around them several times.

"Show's about to begin," Sunstreaker observed, disappointed that his time with his idol had so quickly come to an end.

"I better get back to my seat, then," Tracks sighed. "If you ever find yourself in Alta Trius, don't hesitate to look me up." With one last nod and a friendly brush of hands, he departed.

Sunstreaker watched the mech go, sighing contentedly. He couldn't wait for the show to be over so he could tell everyone who he'd met. He was going to brag forever about who designed his crests. So enraptured was he with the idea of having something to brag about, he missed the soft footsteps padding up behind him. Frighteningly, Sunstreaker failed to be alerted by his spark resonance scanner.

"So, are you in love with him or what?" someone suddenly asked, causing Sunstreaker to gasp and jerk around.

"Sideswipe!" Never. Never in all their life had either twin been able to sneak up on the other. Not even amidst absolute distraction had Sideswipe ever been hidden from Sunstreaker, or vice versa. Except for now.

Sideswipe's faceplate split into a devilish grin. "Surprised you, didn't I?"

"H-how?" Sunstreaker didn't realize he was clutching his tablet out of fright until he heard the cover cracking. It wasn't that Sideswipe was _gone,_ per se. He could still feel their bond, could still feel was Sideswipe felt. It was the normal sensors that didn't recognize the youngling; spark resonance wasn't picking him up at all. Had he not said anything, Sunstreaker wouldn't have known he was behind him at all. "How come you're not appearing on my sensors?" He drew away, unsettled. "Where's your spark?"

That devilish grin grew a little more cheeky. "I still have my spark- you know that. You can still feel me. I feel you. Scared you right out of your plating, didn't I? Scaredy bot!" He laughed a little.

" 'Course I'm scared! You're standing right in front of me but you're not showing up on my sensors! You're like a ghost!"

Around them, the lights finally went dark. Music swelled around them. Energy infused into the air. The show began again.

Sideswipe sat down, still grinning. "Not a ghost, I promise."

"What did you _do_, Sideswipe?" Sunstreaker demanded. Now that his fright was draining, he was now hit by the waves of mischief radiating off his brother. The dark delight was more intense than what he had felt before. Tempting and intoxicating.

"I got curious, I couldn't help it," said the red youngling. A plume of fire lit up the window. Blazing red light cast over him as he reached around and presented a familiar black device. "I couldn't take it anymore- I had to find out what it does." He pressed an innocuous little button and his spark signature suddenly appeared on sensors. He met his brother's stunned gaze, matching it with a glinting stare of his own. "I pressed a button and I found out what No One's toys do." He pressed the button again, suddenly vanishing from sensors. A ghost again. "They make us _invisible_."

_Invisible. _

Not from optics, but from sensors. To a Cybertronian, that was an even greater invisibility. They relied on their sensors more than they did their optics. They needed them to move, to understand, to know where they were in a room in relation to everything else, and to know where others were in relation to them. If one didn't have a spark signature, if it didn't show up on sensors, then they weren't really there at all.

Sunstreaker found himself reaching out before he even knew he was moving. It was only when lights flashed out in the arena- acid greens and malevolent violets- that he saw his pincer hung in the air between himself and his twin. Despite feeling the ephemeral tie between them, he wanted to feel the physical as well. Just to make sure Sideswipe was there. Sideswipe's hand met him halfway, his fingers curling around the pincer and squeezing tight. Something fit between their palms, passed from one hand to the other. As Sunstreaker pulled away, he realized the second of No One's gifts had been passed to him.

"That one's yours," Sideswipe murmured.

Sunstreaker's spark fluttered as his pincer clenched around the cold, dark metal.

"Haven't you wished sometimes that you could be invisible?" pressed his twin, possessed by a strange eagerness. He scooted a little closer so that he could lean in, his mouthplates close to his twin's audios. "You know, so no would would stare at you in that frame. No one could see you. Now you can be invisible."

Dark shapes passed beyond the window. The Kaon performers enacting their tricks. Twisting, death-defying acrobatics. Haunting red optics darting in the dark. The patterns of phosphorous paint on their plating created wraith-like afterimages.

To be invisible... what would it be like?

_So tempting._

Sunstreaker darted his optics about warily, seeing if anyone was watching. All bots around them proved their attentions were for the show. The brown youngling's gaze landed on his brother once more. "When could we try it?"

Sideswipe grinned again, wider still. His optics glittered like jewels. "Tonight." Which meant during the orn, when all nocturnal beings recharged. As deep as they were in the pit of Kaon's capitol, the orn was as dark as the night. "We'll go out after everyone's crashed from the after party. We could explore Kaon for a bit, all by ourselves. No one would know. This is our last chance- we leave for Centaurie Tetrax as soon as everyone is packed."

Reluctance and temptation warred within the brown youngling. Temptation won.

"Okay, after everyone is recharging, we'll go out," Sunstreaker said quietly, slipping his prize away where no one could see. His attention for his frame design was gone again. The alt that meeting Tracks had given him was now subverted by the curious eagerness offered by something he didn't quite understand.

"It's going to be a long wait," Sideswipe cautioned, chagrined. "Think we'll be able to wait until everyone is out?"

"We can wait." He flicked through his pictures once again. No One begged to be brought to the screen.

"This is going to be so much fun, though," Sideswipe murmured. There were so many things to see in Kaon that the troupe had never let them see. He wanted to see it all. Thoughts of the creatures that could be lurking in the unseen, most especially No One, were far from his thoughts as he pondered over what kinds of excitement they could stumble upon while invisible. What treasures could they find?

"_Fun,"_ Sunstreaker parroted lowly, sinking back into his artwork while Sideswipe watched the rest of the show. He was disconcerted to find the picture was _wrong_ yet again. This time, No One was smiling.


	20. Chapter 12: Part IV

**"Ψ"**

Oh lord, where has all the time gone? I swear, one moment I'm posting for this story and the next... it's four months later. Did anyone get the number the time-bomb that just hit me? *shakes head* It's been crazy busy trying to live life, and this chapter... Let's just say it wasn't the easiest one to write.

Since I want to preserve the true impact of the chapter itself, I'm going to compress my usual _Thank You Corner_ into a single paragraph. I want to thank each and every single reviewer who took the time and energy to write a review for this story. To many of you, I owe a deep thanks for reminding me this story still exists and needs to be continued until the end. It is a truly inspiring thing to go back and see all of your insights, enthusiasm, and encouragement laid out for the world to see in your reviews. They inspire me to keep this story alive. My deepest and most humble thanks to: **Ladyleyn, Kai-Chan94, VolturiGirl, Starry-Night, Queen of the Red Skittle, Balrog Roike, SEZwho94, Maverick1997, MoonstarWorld, FunkyFish1991, Bluebird Soaring, Eerie Iri, Bandigital, FaeCat, and Sinead Rivka**. You are all beyond amazing~

Special shout out to **FunkyFish1991**. You've been waiting for this moment for a while, my friend. That moment is finally here.

**Chapter 12: Part IV**

"Do you think they're out cold yet?" Sideswipe asked warily, his blue optics glowing brightly in the dark room.

Sunstreaker snorted quietly. "They're gonna be out for joors." He surveyed the tangled shadows of his drunken family and then rolled his optics. "It's actually kind of embarrassing."

"There's nothing wrong with partying hard," Sideswipe shrugged.

Partying hard was a complete understatement.

The end of the season celebration had been a roaring success if one counted abhorrent amounts of high-grade being consumed while people you knew, loved, and lived with made utter fools of themselves a success in any sense of the word. The music had been loud. The high-grade strong. And inhibitions had been left at the door. There Had been both relief and mourning in the air. Relief that Kaon's circuit was now done for the season and they could finally rest up, regroup, and begin to prepare for next season. Mourning because, come morning, it would be time for the Centaurie Tetrax group to say goodbye.

The later into the day they all partied, the more bizarre they all became. Bots had been randomly laughing and crying in various bursts. They clung to one another as they imbibed more and more high-grade. The more they drank, the tighter they clung.

Much to Sideswipe and Sunstreaker's embarrassment- since they were the only ones sober in the entire collection sober enough to be embarrassed- their troupe turned out be lightweights when it came to drinking. Even Flicker, whose size generally meant he was rarely over-energized, was flat on his aft before the Kaon bots were feeling anything. Flashdance broke out into some of his infamous drunken jigs, resulting in him landing on his faceplate so hard he popped his optic out and had to have Thrillride dust it off and whack it back in. Blaze, Wildride, and Dead End were singing old ditties whose lyrics turned out to be so suggestive that Blindside nearly had a fit listening to them. Sideswipe had thought the songs so clever, he'd immediately started singing along... and that's when Blindside really did have a fit.

Wildrider and Wildride had sat in a corner together for most of the night, commiserating about everything and mourning the lost of each other already. Who else on Cybertron could ever measure up to their stunning identical looks? Who was going to understand them? Who else had such great sense of humour and fashion? Each claimed that they were the better looking half of their duo, but would miss the ugly half bunches. Everyone else insisted that neither of them were the _smart _half of the duo.

Due in part to the strength of the high-grade, the ridiculous rate at which it was being imbibed, and the fact that everyone was already drained from the show they had just put on, the party trailed off around noon. Noon in Kaon meant the dead of "night". Late enough for all good bots to pass out cold. Four drones had been required to haul Flicker's sorry aft back to his berth, while everyone else slouched, crawled, or rolled very, very slowly back to their berths. It was a very sorry sight to see so many adults reduced to a state of whining, hiccoughing, and in some cases, singing very badly. It was never a good thing when the most mature bots in a room happened to be Sunstreaker and Sideswipe.

Because they _had_ to go too, the twins followed behind everyone at a distance. They were smart enough to stay out of anyone's shadow. This over-energized, no one's proximal sensors were working; larger bots weren't likely to know if anyone small and vulnerable was trotting around their feet. Someone could step on the twins without knowing. With no plans of dying that night, the twins had wisely stayed out from under foot.

Like good little younglings, they had crawled up onto their berth, cuddled into each other, and waited for their family to pass out. They didn't have to wait long for the light of everyone's optics to blink out. Frames whined, sighed, and finally revved into recharge. Fans growled atrociously as snoring began.

"Blaze has _got_ to get someone to check that out," Sunstreaker complained as Blaze's fans cycled, creating the most horrendous noise ever. It sounded like it could wake the dead.

"I think he might have dislodged something during the show- one of his fan blades or something," Sideswipe reasoned. "I was watching when he twisted wrong." The red youngling made a face. "Sounds like he's grinding glitch-mice."

They watched and listened for a while longer. Blaze's horrendous snoring never did decrease in volume. Luckily, everyone else was so deeply unconscious, they never noticed. There was not a twitch, squeak, or rev from any other recharging bot.

Finally, when Sunstreaker was fully satisfied, he said, "If they can stay unconscious through noise like that, then we can leave and they'll never notice."

Sideswipe's optics suddenly flared in excitement. "Time to go?" he wondered, sitting straight, a shiver passing through his frame.

Sunstreaker hesitated for a moment, looking out into the inky darkness of their room. Nothing moved. No one stirred. "Time to go."

Their gazes crossed, and what lay hidden in the depths of the glittering blue light was adventure for both of them. There was a little bit of fear, some curiosity, and the thought of discovering a world that could never be shown to them because they had to see it for themselves. Simultaneously, they brought out No One's gifts. In their hands, the black boxes were ominous and tempting, representing freedoms they wanted and secrets they feared. In hopes of making the mysterious little gifts a little less frightening than they were, they had decided to call them ghost-boxes, on account of how they turned the user into a "ghost".

"One the count of three?" Sideswipe suggested. "One."

"Two," Sunstreaker breathed.

"_Three,"_ they murmured together, pressing the discreet buttons on their ghost-boxes.

The sensation of disappearing was instantaneous. It wasn't cold or warm, pleasurable or painful. It was nothingness incarnate. One moment they had each others' sparks on their resonance scanners, and then they were there no more. Physically, it was no feeling at all. Not like touch, or taste, or sound, or smell. Personally, in their minds and sparks, it was a surreal feeling. It was as if they themselves no longer existed. With the push of a button they could erase them themselves. They were no one.

"Cool, isn't it?" Sideswipe piped in, grinning.

"Not really." Sunstreaker pressed a pincer to his chest as if to make sure his spark was still there. He could feel it pulsing through his plating a little quicker than normal.

Sideswipe shrugged. "You get used to it." He peeled his brother's pincer away from his chest, holding it tight in his hand reassuringly. "It's kind of neat, isn't it?"

"I guess," Sunstreaker sighed reluctantly. He was suddenly having second thoughts about this. He didn't like the feel of what the ghost-box did to him. He didn't like the weight of it in his pincers. Deep down in the spark, he knew this was a very bad idea. Nothing good could come of this.

Sideswipe's hand suddenly squeezed again, drawing Sunstreaker away from his thoughts. "You okay?"

"I... don't know," replied the brown youngling, his tone unsure.

"We're just going to go exploring," said his twin. "What could possibly happen?"

"Last time we explored somewhere, we met No One."

Sideswipe paused, frowning. "Oh yeah..."

"Maybe we should just recharge," Sunstreaker sighed, reaching to press the button on the ghost-box to bring his spark resonance back.

"No, wait!" Sideswipe grabbed his pincers, halting him. "Sunny, please, let's just try, okay? We'll be careful out there. We won't go into anywhere that looks dark or scary, we won't talk to anyone who looks suspicious. Just give it a chance, will you?" When Sunstreaker continued to look unsure, Sideswipe pressed on. "Think about it, Sunny! This is our chance to see the world out there without everyone turning and looking at us because we're twins. We can just blend in with everyone else! Pit, they won't even _see_ us! Do you really want to waste an opportunity like that?"

Sunstreaker pursed his mouthplates, weighing every pro and con. If he said yes, they would go together and have fun. If he said no, then there was the chance that Sideswipe would sneak out on his own and get into all kinds of horrible trouble. Meeting his brother's optics, Sunstreaker could see the usual mischief sparkling in the blue depths. There was no way Sideswipe could ever possibly avoid trouble. He was a magnet for it. Knowing that cinched Sunstreaker's decision.

"Alright, I'll go."

Sideswipe cheered silently, waving his arms around in victory.

"You won't regret this!" Sideswipe exclaimed gleefully as he made a beeline for the stairs down the side of the berth.

"I regret it already," Sunstreaker sighed to himself as he watched his brother disappear over the ledge.

Sideswipe's head popped back up. "What was that?"

"Nothing."

* * *

They were like shadows down the hallways of the coliseum. No, not shadows. Shadows weren't cool enough for what they were doing. They were like ghosts. Yeah, ghosts. Super-awesome ghosts that were like shadows but better. And they had super powers. Yeah, super powers that were more awesome than any other super powers in the universe. They were cooler than the Prime, the Matrix, and the Allspark put together!

Sunstreaker stopped to shake his head, trying to push back the feelings that Sideswipe was broadcasting to him. The broadcasting was by accident. They were too excited to hold everything to themselves. But when the connection was _that_ open and loudly, they tended to forget they were two bots instead of one.

Up ahead, Sideswipe skidded to a halt. He felt his brother's moment of annoyance. He backtracked down the hall, looking sheepish in the gloom. Eventually, the feeling of being super-awesome shadow-ghosts with super powers faded into a vague tingling in the back of Sunstreaker's mind.

"Sorry," said Sideswipe, scuffing the floor with his foot.

"It's okay," Sunstreaker assured, offering a half-smile. "Just try not to be so loud anymore, 'kay? I keep thinking I'm you by accident."

"And that's a bad thing?" Sideswipe asked cheekily.

"I like me better," Sunstreaker replied.

Sideswipe grinned, hugging his twin. "Good, I like you, too. Not as much as me, but you're a close second."

They giggled quietly before starting off down the hall again. Down twisted hallways lit by swirls of green and purple glowing paint, Creepy designs that formed optics and claws and grins that leered down at them. It was Sideswipe who slowed but didn't stop walking.

"You hear something?" he whispered, looking about.

"Yeah, you talking," Sunstreaker replied. "If you're not quiet, someone might hear us."

"Everyone is recharging," Sideswipe sniffed.

"Someone could be up," Sunstreaker warned.

Sideswipe rolled his eyes. "No one is up."

A shiver passed through them. The hall suddenly felt too quiet, too dark, too cold.

Sunstreaker tugged on Sideswipe's hand, urging him to walk faster. "What was that you were saying before?"

Sideswipe looked over his shoulder, jogging as fast as he could without actually running. "I thought I heard something before. It was weird- like more footsteps. Probably just an echo."

"Yeah, echo," Sunstreaker said, even while warning bells were going off inside him.

They made it down one more hallway, into a corridor, and through the common room still littered with the remnants of their party. It was such a large, empty room, their footsteps echoed eerily as they crept along.

Tip. Tap. Tip. Tap. Tip. Tap. Tip. Tap. Tip. Tap.

"Oh, look, someone left their dangly jewels behind," Sunstreaker murmured, pointing to a pretty metal braid decorated in glittering black droplets of obsidian. It was very pretty, though much too big for either youngling to wear. Nevertheless, Sunstreaker made a beeline for the beautiful treasure, intent on dragging it to a place where it would be safe from the drones, in case one of them came along and thought it was garbage. He scurried over, dragging Sideswipe with him.

"Oh, come on- I want to get outside!" Sideswipe whined.

"It'll only take a moment," Sunstreaker said lowly. He bent to pick up one end of the long, golden braid, Sideswipe reluctantly scooping up a droplet of obsidian so big he needed both arms to wrap around it. In the process of trying to heave the thing away, the red youngling froze.

"Something's not right," he intoned.

"What?" Sunstreaker wondered.

"Listen!"

They both paused, tuning their audios to whatever Sideswipe thought he could hear. And then they heard. Even though both younglings had ceased walking, the sound of footsteps had yet to stop.

With one wild look at each other, the twins screamed and took off as fast as their legs could carry them.

* * *

A couple hallways over, Wildrider paused midstep and looked back at the small troupe following behind him. "What the pit is that?"

Motormaster rumbled, casting a stubborn look to the ceiling. "Probably those new sirens I heard Security Response are trying out."

"Those are stupid sirens," Drag Strip harrumphed.

Dead End sighed morosely, staring off down the dark corridor. "It sounds like screaming to me. I bet someone's being attacked outside."

Wildrider snorted. "If they're screaming that loud, then they're probably dying."

"Probably," Breakdown laughed.

Dead End blinked slowly. "Should we go see?"

They all looked to each other, and then laughed.

"Nah," drawled Drag Strip. "We got better things to do." He looked to Motormaster. "How's our time looking?"

The director's optics flashed. "We missed the warm-up match, but if we hurry, we'll be in time to watch the real fight. I don't want to miss anymore than we already have; I paid a small fortune for the keycode."

Breakdown laughed, clapping his director on the arm. "This is the best end-season celebration ever. We wouldn't miss the real match for the world."

Wildrider clapped his hands together, rubbing excitedly. "The death matches are the only ones worth watching anyways."

* * *

"In here," Sideswipe hissed, throwing himself into a dark room and yanking his brother in after him.

Sunstreaker stumbled over his feet, taking Sideswipe to the floor with them. They clamped their mouthplates shut so they made no noise as they skidded faceplate-down across the cold floor. Rolling to his knees, Sunstreaker peered about in the room they suddenly found themselves in. It was a cluttered junk room that some of the Kaon performers used as a private hangout room when they wanted to get away from everyone else. There were a couple mangled seating arrangements shoved into a semicircle around a medium-sized media screen. The room smelled of dust, rust, and spilt high-grade.

Sideswipe laid on his back, an arm slung over his optics. He panted harshly, laughing in between cycles of air. "I think we lost them."

"I think so, too," Sunstreaker whispered, not quite laughing.

It hadn't taken them long to figure out what they had been running from hadn't been supernatural. Motormaster's deep voice had rumbled through the halls like distant thunder, close enough to recognize him, but too far away to hear the words being said. That didn't stop the twins from running. Or hiding. Just because No One wasn't following them didn't mean they wanted to get caught and sent back to their berth. The front door was so close! They could taste freedom!

"We'll wait here until they pass," Sideswipe said. "Even if they can't scan our spark resonances, they could still see us if we try to sneak by."

"Right," Sunstreaker agreed, slumping to the floor amidst clutter to wait out the Kaon performers.

To their surprise, the voices got louder and closer until, at the very last moment, the door snapped open on them. Swallowing their squeals of surprise, they scuttled out of the way as fast as they could. With flying leaps that had them skidding along the floor on their fronts, they made it to the shelter of the nearest couch before they could be properly seen.

Drag Strip, the first to come into the room, jerked back into Wildrider as he sensed scuttling movement around his feet. Lifting his feet high, he danced around in hopes to avoid whatever it was. "Damn it! I think we have glitch-mice again!"

"I knew they'd come back," Dead End sighed. "They always come back."

"I'm getting the traps!" Drag Strip exclaimed.

"It's the middle of the orn- too late for us to do anything for them," Motormaster growled, grabbing the mech before he could bolt. "We'll set traps for them in the evening when everyone else is online to help."

"Primus, I hate glitch-mice!" Drag Strip cursed, tiptoeing around as if he expected a glitch-mouse to crawl over his foot at any moment.

Sideswipe stuck his chin out stubbornly, peering at Sunstreaker through the gloom of their hiding place. "Do we look like glitch-mice?"

"You hear that?" Wildrider suddenly intoned.

Sunstreaker leaned in and hissed in Sideswipe's audios: _"Shhhhhh!"_

"You're hearing things again," Motormaster grunted impatiently, smacking Wildrider on the back of the head. "Get your audios checked."

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe scooted as deeply into the shadows as they could, desperate to keep out of sight. They watched in horror as big feet and long legs shuffled around them. The couch creaked as several frames dropped on it. Groans and sighs filled the air, giving the impression that the stuntbots had no intention of leaving any time soon. New light sputtered into the room as the media screen was turned on. Someone cursed and thumped it a couple of times until the image cleared.

"We need a new one of these," Breakdown complained.

"You willing to shell out the credits?" Drag Strip asked.

Breakdown snorted. No, he most certainly was not using his own hard-earned credits.

Excited jittering came from directly above the twins, making them duck closer to the floor.

"Someone put in the keycode quick! I heard it's Flamestrike on tonight and I don't want to miss her!" Wildrider exclaimed.

The couch shifted as Motormaster got up, the keycode entered. There was a long moment of adjusting and readjusting the new transmission. Private channels were always tricky, their transmissions not always the clearest. Images were a little fuzzy, the sound a bit staticky.

"What are they doing?" Sideswipe wondered, his voice thankfully low. Too low to be heard.

"I'm not sure we want to know..." Sunstreaker replied in a similarly low voice. He'd once walked into a room where Flicker, Flashdance, and several other members of the troupe had been watching a private channel. No one had noticed the youngling come in. What had been playing on the screen had been extremely... entrancing. Unfortunately for Sunstreaker, those images were now seared into his memory banks and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't delete them. If he really wanted to know what sparkmates did, he'd ask his creators.

Finally, the screen cleared and everyone settled in for the show. Out of morbid curiosity, the twins crept out as far as they dared to peer up at the screen. From their spot, they could see a strange arena being shown on the media screen amidst occasional static. It was not the kind of arena the twins were used to. It was much smaller, and very battered looking. It was surrounded on all sides by a cage that stretched from floor to ceiling, open enough for an audience to see in but sturdy enough so that occupants couldn't get out. The floor might have been white at some point, but now it shone in different shades of morbid blue.

Flashing lights of all colours blazed across the screen. In the shadowed background of the ring rose a small collection of bleachers containing a frenzied audience that could only be seen by the glare of their optics.

A femme and a minibot appeared on screen, coming in from opposite sides. As the twins watched, mesmerized, they decided that the two transformers didn't look right. Their frames looked like miner frames, heavy and built to take a beating, but they didn't lumber like miners. They darted and twitched. Their clawed hands flexed, mouthplates full of jagged daggers snapping open and closed. They wore extra armour on top of their frame- it gave them an even bulkier look. Like monsters. Bolted and hinged to their frames, layers of battered metal that was scarred deep, gouged everywhere. Their optics were the wrong colour- not blue like a regular bot's, but deep, deep red like fire.

Sunstreaker came to the quick conclusion that whatever he was about to witness, it was going to have nothing to do with illicit scenes between lovers.

The two heavily-armoured bots entered the arena together while a deep, rumbling voice came over the speakers, urging the crowd into a new announcer rambled on, building up the excitement. Insanity rising to a fever pitch.

The femme, a nightmarish thing smeared in purple paint and scars across her entire frame, raised her arms as her designation was announced.

"_Flamestrike!" _

"I'm your biggest fan!" Wildrider cheered, clapping his hands excitedly for the femme. The twins listened to what the mech had to say about the femme; how vicious she was, what a killer in the ring she was, how undefeated she was. They barely comprehended the meaning behind the words. Wildrider sounded more sincere and enthusiastic than he ever had throughout the whole season. He ended on a love-sick note: "Isn't she the most gorgeous thing you've ever seen?"

"Yeah, 'Rider, totally gorgeous- like an energon-spattered knife," Breakdown drawled.

"Shhhhhhh!" snapped Motormaster. "You're missing it!"

The minibot who had entered the ring with Flamestrike, not much taller than the femme herself, beat his chest with his fists as his designation was called.

"_Deadbolt!"_

He was thicker than Flamestrike, smeared in dreadful patterns of red and black paint. He did not look any more intimidating that Flamestrike, but he did have a distinct aura about them that was different than his opponent's. Where Flamestrike exuded feral, near-crazed energy, Deadbolt was a heavy, brooding monster that peered out through deep-set, smoldering optics. The calm before the storm.

"I've heard of this one. They say he's a nasty beast! He kills even when it's not a death match!" Breakdown exclaimed excitedly, bouncing up and down in a manner than was quite unlike himself. He sounded as a youngling would when watching a delightful stunt show. "He was actually found in one of the colonies selling the frame parts of his creators- who he'd ripped apart!"

"I heard something like that, too," Dead End murmured quietly.

The bottoms of the twins' tanks dropped out. Hot and cold, dread and fear, a deep, dark sickness, rushed through them. They shrank back, suddenly wishing they had stayed in their berths like good little younglings. Oh, how they wished they were good, normal little younglings! Now they were trapped in a place they couldn't escape, bound to see something that, by the sounds of things, would be _very_ unpleasant.

"We should turn off our audios," Sunstreaker said, barely able to hear his own voice over the sick dread flooding him. Even as he said it, he knew neither he nor Sideswipe would be able to do it. Something disgusting and twisted and wreaking with the stench of fear kept them rooted to their spots, unable to make their frames obey any command.

Sideswipe shuddered. "Why are they doing this?" he whispered, his voice trembling. "They're talking about ripping bots apart like it's a sport!"

"I don't care what happens," Motormaster snorted, the couch shifting above the twins as heavy frames moved. "A show is a show- it just better be worth what I paid."

"The gladiators are always worth it," Breakdown assured with a purr.

"We should run..." Sunstreaker intoned. He could hear his voice now; it wasn't panicked like his brother's. It was flat, like everything he was supposed to feel had been sucked out of him and replaced by a big black hole of dread. Again, he knew they wouldn't run.

"This isn't right," Sideswipe whimpered.

"We should..." Sunstreaker didn't even bother finishing his sentence this time. He didn't know what else to do.

Motormaster... Wildrider... Drag Strip... Breakdown... Dead End... They were supposed to be good bots! A little rough around the edges, but they had been so nice and good and funny all season! Sunny had painted portraits for them. They had taught Sideswipe a few tricks. The Kaon troupe had been good to their family, laughing and teasing all season, smiling and joking. What they were now, talking about ripping someone into pieces, tearing sparks out, selling frame parts on the Black Market... it was _wrong_. It wasn't them!

"Death match! Death match! Death match!" Drag Strip chanted, while Wildrider crowed for his love, "Flamestrike! Flamestrike! Flamestrike!"

"I bet someone's gonna lose their head in this match," Breakdown gambled, then he laughed. "I mean _literally_ lose their head."

"Someone probably will," Dead End agreed. "Energon is going to be everywhere." He sounded as if he wished to be in front row seats to see it happen.

Motormaster rumbled darkly. "Some bot better lose their head."

"_Their head?"_ Sideswipe repeated in abject horror.

Sunstreaker stared at his brother, unable to find an answer appropriate for the circumstance. Coursing through is frame, through his mind, through his spark was Sideswipe's terror. Sideswipe's disgust, shock, panic, anger, and horror. It was distinct now, instead of something that consumed him and made him forgot where one twin ended and the other began. Sideswipe's feelings were stark inside Sunstreaker, because Sunstreaker couldn't seem to feel any of his own. It was like everything inside him had shut down.

He could feel Sideswipe's mounting hysteria, confused why Sunstreaker felt nothing at all.

Sunstreaker clutched his brother's hand. "Shock," he murmured. "I'm in shock..." There was no room to feel anything else.

"I'm sorry," Sideswipe sobbed. In his free hand, he clenched his ghost box in his fist as if to crush it. "This is my fault. I shouldn't have pressed the button on the box. I shouldn't have made you promise to come exploring with me. I'm sorry, sorry, sorry." He stared at down at the ghost box. "I don't even know why I pressed the button..."

Sunstreaker tugged his pincer away so he could wrap his arm around his brother, even if the gesture didn't offer any comfort. He didn't bother saying "it's okay", because it wasn't okay. Nothing about their situation was okay. Instead, he listened briefly and heard the announcer come over the speakers again, summoning the match to begin. Cheers that turned into thunder reverberated through the area on screen and through the storage room.

"The match is starting," Sunstreaker breathed. He couldn't explain why, but he leaned forward to see what was happening.

With twin roars, the femme and mech launched themselves at each other. There was no choreography. No style. No hesitation. It was pure brutality. Instant want for death; a fight for supremacy from the moment their frames touched. Deadbolt was the heavier of the pair, taking Flamestrike to the floor with a crash like thunder and lightning.

Sideswipe cried out, but the sound of his voice was drowned out by the ensuing cheering.

Slashing claws. Snapping jaws. Spiked knees driving into armoured bodies. Horned heads thrashing.

Sunstreaker stared agog, hypnotized by the savagery.

Energon bloomed as armour was ripped away. Small spatters of it appeared first, dotting the floor of the ring and dancing on the combatants. Neither fighter appeared to notice that they were losing energon. The crowds, on the other hand, went wild for the gore. The more, the better.

A stray claw lashed out, hooked on an open slate of armour. It ripped off in a spray of glowing blue. The side of someone's faceplate was just ripped off. A roar sounded from Flamestrike, gripping the disfigured side of her head. She screamed curses as she backed off to the other side of the ring. Deadbolt thrust his gory prize into the air, turning a circle for all to see.

Sideswipe gagged, then quietly purged his tanks next to his feet.

"Ohhhhhhhhh, my Flamey ain't gonna like that!" Wildrider warned, bubbling over with excitement.

True to his prediction, the moment Flamestrike took her hand away from her mutilated faceplate, she ran at Deadbolt. Fast like lightning, she jumped on his back and started throttling every part of his body she could reach. The femme appeared determined to cause as much visible damage as possible without actually going for the death blow.

Sunstreaker was... transfixed. He couldn't explain it. It horrified him. Sickened him. Burned his optics like he was pouring acid into them. And still, he was fixated on the sight of writhing frames. This was nothing like the writhing frames of pseudo-lovers. His attention was riveted to the sight of pure unleashed power and fury.

The frenzied screaming of the audience ricocheted through the inside of his head. His audios were ringing with the unadulterated crazed energy shrieking all around him. It was like cheering for a regular stunt show, but headier somehow. Louder, more real. Bots were screaming until their vocal processors gave out, until energon leaked from their sides of their mouthplates. Their adoration was almost as violent as the show they were watching.

Deadbolt bellowed, writhing, bucking. He rammed his body against the cage walls, grinding Flamestrike until her paint scraped off, her back caved in. His attacker would not let go. She was as determined as she was infuriated. By the time Deadbolt got a good hold of one of her arms and wrenched her away, the femme had already managed to tear away one of his optics and dislocate his jaw. Flipping the femme to the floor, Deadbolt stomped on her a few times before backing off.

Flamestrike rolled to the side, curling into a ball. Her agony was obvious.

Deadbolt beat his chest again.

The crowd went wild.

Intermission came. Deadbolt went to his side of the ring, where several bots converged to whisper in his audio, treating wounds. On the other side of the ring, the cage was opened and two medics came in along another fighter and a pleasure bot painted as bright as fire. They surrounded Flamestrike and dragged her to her side of the ring; the medics did their job while the other fighter seemed to be giving a pep talk. The pleasure bot appeared frantic for Flamestrike. Flamestrike, though injured and in pain, did not look overly concerned. She took the pleasure bot's hand and pressed it to her spark briefly. The pleasure bot was appeased. Flamestrike was then hauled to her feet.

The match soon resumed.

The second round was no less brutal than the first.

In fact, it was now much more violent. The roaring of the combatants' grew louder, magnified, lost within the crazed screaming of the crowd. Energon splashed, flaring brightly under the heat and glare of the blazing white lights. Wounds opened up like gaping, fanged mouths. Innards glistened wetly, writhing and wet, twitching and stained blue. Sparks flew as metal-against-metal shrieked. Some sparks landed in pools of energon, igniting the volatile substance. Flames erupted, fires and minor explosions rocking the ring.

The first round had only been a warm up, something to tickle the crowds with. Now they were fighting to _kill_.

Deadbolt had Flamestrike again, this time kneeling on her lower back as he wrapped his hands around her neck, folding her backwards until her cranial crests nearly touched her spinal column. Flamestrike was screaming, swearing. Her whole frame writhing and bucking.

"Why doesn't he just kill her and get it over with?" Sideswipe moaned. "This is so horrible!"

"It's a show," Sunstreaker replied, his gaze transfixed to the screen. "They're supposed to kill each other, but they're also supposed to make it..." He stumbled on the last word, and then forced it past his mouthplates, "_entertaining_."

Sideswipe moaned again in his own personal agony, dropping his faceplate into his palms to cry.

Wildrider was practically convulsing as he wailed for his femme. He jumped up, stomped, grabbed his own cranial crests so hard he bent them. He was in complete panic-mode, not even capable of even the barest hint of reason. "Flamey! Oh Primus, don't let him do this to you! Flamey! Flamey! Buck him off! Kick his aft! _Do something_!"

Despite Wildrider's unwavering loyalty, the rest of his troupe had higher hopes for Deadbolt walking away alive.

"Rip her head off!" Drag Strip cried, howling. "Take her apart!"

"Finish her!" Motormaster bellowed.

"I don't want to see her die!" Sideswipe sobbed.

Sunstreaker said nothing. He couldn't even shutter his optics.

Flamestrike's optics flickered. Her movements slowed...

A piercing scream carried over the crowd. A flash of bright red came streaking across the screen; it was the pleasure bot from before, out of her mind as she grabbed hold of the cage and shook it with all her might. She was screaming for Flamestrike. Beyond hysterical now. Even as security guards came for her, she beat them away with one hand while she gripped the cage desperately with the other.

Flamestrike's apparently heard the pleasure bot's screams, and it brought her a second wind. Her mouthplates pulled back into a death-grimace. Her optics flashed bright. Death was pushed aside, and something far more terrible came across her grotesque faceplate. Without warning, her whole frame snapped backwards. Her arms shot out, claws digging into Deadbolt's faceplate. With strength that shocked the audience, and shocked the fighters themselves, the femme hauled forward and managed to whip her would-be killer from her back.

The impossible feat left everyone stunned.

Deadbolt landed in a sprawl. He heaved to sit up, only to be slammed back down as Flamestrike flipped off the floor and landed hard on his chest. It was her turn to do some damage. One hand holding down the minibot's head by his neck, she punched him repeatedly until the metal of his faceplate loosened, bolts flews off, and finally gaping wounds full of boiling energon spilt over. Under the fury of her unrelenting attack, he began to fall apart.

The femme was absolutely _possessed_ as she ripped into her opponent. She became an incarnate of power, fury, and pure murderous intent. Where Deadbolt had been cold and calculated in his near-murder, Flamestrike was only becoming more _wild_. Frenzied, _Insane_. She moved from his faceplate to strike at anything she could reach. She ripped off anything she could grab. Slashed, clawed, gouged, pounded, and ripped apart whatever was left of Deadbolt's mutilated frame.

Not that Deadbolt was lying there taking it. His calm facade was shattered in light of his possible death. As Flamestrike had done, he bucked and writhed. His fists pounded into the femme. He tried to throw her off. Nothing he threw at the femme did any good.

She was moving faster and faster upon him. Wicked sounds burst from her. Wretched, rabid, horrible sounds gargling from her vocal processor. As rabid as a mindless animal. With each damage she managed to inflict on her opponent, her own frame was being torn apart. The armour of her arms fell away. Energon lines burst. And still she pounded into Deadbolt. It was as if she couldn't stop. Madness overtook her features as she pulverized the minibot into something barely recognizable.

His chest tore open. His sparkcase shredded. Bright, bright light filled the arena.

"Yes! Yes! Yes!" Wildrider shrieked.

"No! No! No!" Sideswipe howled.

Sunstreaker's optics grew round, his mouthplates gaping. "She's gonna do it..."

Flamestrike's hands plunged into Deadbolt's chest. In one clean jerk, she brought to bare the light of all Cybertronian life. Thrust above her head was evidence that transformers weren't really made of metal, but contained inside. Everything that they were could be concentrated down to energy. A single pulsing ball of beautiful bright blue energy. Life that could be held in the plam of someone's hand.

Deadbolt's spark existed for all but an astrosecond, and then Flamestrike howled, crushing that vital, living spark against her chest in a brutal display of power and domination.

Just like that, a life was ended.

A veil of silence fell over the crowd.

Sunstreaker stared, his mouthplates hanging open. It had been so... easy. He'd grown up learning that sparks were eternal things. Like peering into a little slice of forever. All the energy that made up a spark could never be destroyed; it was always transformed. And yet... and yet Deadbolt's spark had been crushed out of existence so easily. Not transformed, but utterly destroyed. In the ending moments, it had been so blindingly bright. There had been so many shades of blue and white, and colours that had no name. It had been indescribably beautiful, and over so very quick.

"_That's it?"_ the brown youngling croaked.

Sideswipe gagged, purging again by his feet. He rocked himself back and forth neurotically, stuffing his fists into his mouthplates to keep himself from making a sound. His spark was in chaos. It beat so hard against the insides of his sparkcase, he was in pain. He burned all over, shock and denial mixing with the horror of what he had just witness to form a toxic brew. He felt like he was falling apart. Like he, too, was dying.

Across the screen came a single hunched figure with the decals of a medic painted on his shoulders. He climbed into the ring and hunched over Deadbolt's dead frame. He confirmed the death with a sharp gesture of his hand.

Predictably, Wildrider went wild right along with the crowds. He jumped on the on back of the couch and started flailing around while cheering and screaming. He was so insane with the victory, he fell off and hit the floor still cheering. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker swallowed their screams, running for cover at the far end before Wildrider saw them. The mech never did see them, his optics glazed over in insanity.

Motormaster and the others were none too impressed. Satisfied with the fight itself, but disappointed that it was over so soon.

"Damn, that sucks," Breakdown pouted. "Over too quick."

"Deadbolt had so much potential," Dead End sighed. "What a waste."

However, none aside from the twins appeared stunned to have just watched a bot be brutally _murdered_.

An expansive groan reverberated through the room as Motormaster rose to his feet. He switched the media receiver off the private channel and erased all presence of it. He then shut off the screen. He did so in a way that was very practised and familiar, as if he had gone through the motions a thousand times before.

"Come on," the director rumbled. "It was a good match, but now it's time to recharge." He walked around the couch and hauled Wildride to his feet. The five of them slouched their way to the door, their energy drained from the absolute maelstrom of watching the death-match. They were eager for their berths.

Sideswipe choked, a whimper escaping him.

All five mechs froze.

"I _know_ I heard something this time," Wildrider murmured sharply.

"I heard it, too," Motormaster growled. "Someone's in here with us..."

Silence stretched on forever. Sunstreaker was on top of his brother, forcing Sideswipe into the floor. His pincers were clenching the other youngling's mouthplates shut so hard it hurt. They didn't dare move. They didn't dare cycle air through their vents. If they were caught... they didn't want to think of what might happen to them.

Eventually, someone moved.

For the first time all season. Dead End cracked a smile- something he rarely ever did. It was a twisted gesture, looking wrong and morbid on his faceplate. "It must have been no one," he said airily.

It must have been...

**No One. **

"You're probably right. No one would be crazy enough to be up," Drag Strip sighed. "Let's just go. I wanna recharge."

The lights flicked off and they were gone. Their footsteps receded down the hall until they were gone. The twins were left completely alone.

"Sideswipe?" Sunstreaker murmured cautiously as he moved off his brother's back.

The moment he was free, Sideswipe let loose a wail that was unlike any other noise he had made before. A noise that stretched beyond the mortal coil. It was a sound encompassed all he was feeling; his terror, agony, and misery. As it echoed off the walls and vibrating through the floor, it became a living noise that screamed back at them all of the injustice of the world. The violation of their innocence. The waste of a life.

Sideswipe was inconsolable as he attacked his twin. He took the brown youngling by the shoulders and shook him as hard as he could. He battered Sunstreaker, and the brown youngling did nothing to stop the assault. Their faceplates were a breath apart as Sideswipe screamed, _"Why aren't you upset? You're supposed to be upset!" _

"I..."

Sideswipe flung away, brought his ghost-box out and released the button on it. His spark resonance came back. He flung the damned contraption away with as much violence as he could. His optics flared bright and wide and wild in the dark. He was hysterical. Madness pulsed through his energon.

"_I Hate You!"_ he screamed into the dark. He wasn't talking to Sunstreaker. He was screaming to all the things they couldn't see but knew were listening. _"I Hate All Of You!" _

And then came the sound of his knees giving out. He crashed to the floor and curled up into a ball. His sobbing was a terrible, wretched sound. Painful. Each sob tearing him up from the inside out.

Carefully, Sunstreaker crept over. He reached out, hesitated, and then laid a gentle hand to his brother. He didn't ask, "Are you okay?" because he knew the answer. Instead, he sat down and pulled his brother into his arms. He tucked Sideswipe's head against his neck, wrapped his arms around his twin's shaking frame, and rocked him gently back and forth. All he did was gently rock, not making a single sound. He didn't know if he was comforting the red youngling, but it felt better to be doing something rather than nothing.

"Why aren't you crying?" Sideswipe kept asking, over and over and over. "Why aren't you angry? Why aren't you doing anything? Why don't you _feel_ anything?"

Why? Why? Why? _WHY? _

"I don't know," Sunstreaker replied shamefully.

They stayed in that room, in the dark, under the couch, for a long time. Even as things shifted in the shadows blacker than black. Footsteps without feet pattered around them. Glowing optics blinked and stared. They heard laughter; whispers. Joy and mourning. They could smell the lingering scents of things unseen; sometimes sweet, sometimes stale. Things that shouldn't be there. They didn't dare move through it all. Joors passed and they stayed entwined in each other.

Sideswipe mourned as deeply as any spark could.

Sunstreaker... sat there. Empty. He finally shuttered his optics and acknowledged the part of himself that had shut down. It was a place so deep and dark he couldn't touch it. Sideswipe couldn't feel it. A necrotic, black, rotted piece of himself that hung like a deep, dark secret disease inside him. To his horror, he knew it was a part of himself that had always been there. He knew it had always existed. Now he felt it festering.

It was the part of him that realized there was something very artistic about death.


	21. Chapter 13

Holy cow, how time has gotten away from me on this fic. *shakes head* I just wanted to get this slower chapter out of the way, because their reformation into adults is coming up very soon. And with their reformatting will come a whole new slew of adventures!

**Faecat- **Even though it sounds a little bit gruesome to say this, thank you so much- I'm glad that you like the way I kill people in the gladiatorial rings. This won't be the last violent death you ever see. ^_^ All of the little pieces that have Sunstreaker become the mech he will be in the future are slowly falling into place…

**Reaper Mendez- **Awww, thanks, that means a lot~ Where I'm taking this is going to be a very dark place, but the lights will only go dark at a very slow pace. There's still light left in the twins' lives before everything goes completely dark…

**Yoong- **Yeah, the gladiator match was a really intense one. It was surprisingly easy to write, but I can only imagine how hard it was to read… though I suppose I am happy that I got such a strong reaction out of one of my readers. ^_^ Seeing something so violent definitely leaves its mark on people… it leaves its mark on the twins, for sure.

**Bluebird Soaring- **You were worried about the twins getting out into Kaon and getting hurt? I think in light of what actually happened, them getting loose in the city might have actually been preferable… But you're right, now that Pandora's box has been opened, it's too late to put everything back inside. Sunny and Sides will just have to deal with all the demons they've unleashed, on top of all the demons already following them…

**SEZwho94- **Heh, that's the whole point of creating this backstory- to show how Sunstreaker and Sideswipe become the mechs they are in the future. =P I'm glad you think everything so far featured in the story is appropriate to their characters. ^_^

**Kai-Chan94- **Thanks, I'm glad you think the chapter was awesome. Yeah… it's hard not to feel sorry for the twins after what they've been through…

**SavvyEnigmaxBanditgal- **Don't worry about it, my friend- I have every intention of continuing this story… it will just be really slow going. ^^;

**MoonstarWorld- **Yep, Sunstreaker's emotionless state is actually supposed to be a prelude to what he becomes. Slowly but surely, he's becoming the monster that lurks in the dark.

**Ladyofthedrgns- ***sigh* Don't put too much stock in Blindside and Wildride's reactions to the twins' new outlook on life. Parents/creators may be apt on seeing when something is wrong, but they don't always know the cause… and I don't think Sunny or Sides are about to tell anyone what happened. .

**Balrog Roike- **You're asking all the right kinds of questions, my friend. Sadly, they're the kind of questions that don't always have happy answers… With each thing that might have been done differently, a different future would have resulted. Some of them would have been pleasant futures, and other would have been far worse than what's in store for the twins now… O_o

**Daklog73- **Oh wow, I'm flattered that you enjoy my portrayal of the twins. ^_^ I really wanted to create a fully-fleshed out story for them that would explain all of their little idiosyncrasies that they have as adult warriors in the Autobot forces.

**Shizuka Taiyou- **Yep, it was very wrong for anyone their age to watch, but if they hadn't watched it, the seeds of who they are to become never would have been planted… and without them becoming who they become, much more terrible things might happen. O_o

**BabyBumblebee17- **Thank you so much for reviewing. =)

**FunkyFish1991- **As always, my dearest friend, your reviews have a way of stunning me so speechless that it takes me a couple of months to finally be able to work up a new chapter and respond to such amazing reviews. XD How do I even accurately sum up my feelings toward your review? There are no words in the English language that describe my awe for you. *huggles you mercilessly* I worked so very hard on the chapter to make it just right for you… actually, I still go back and work on it from time to time. ^^; Just the fact that you say I exceeded your expectations for the chapter makes me want to cry in happiness. I'm so happy that you think my gift for horror and gore can still sweep you away. 8D

**Sinead Rivka- **Heh, yeah, it was a really intense chapter, wasn't it? Thank you so much for reviewing. ^_^

**Femme4prime- **Awwww, you're too kind, with all your special flattering words. You're making me all blushey and happy. =P Wow, I really am flattered that you like my portrayal of the twins, as well as my use of OCs and glimpses of other orginal characters. Hearing that there are readers out there who enjoy the writing makes it all worth it. ^_^

Read, Review, & Enjoy! ^_^

**Chapter 13**

The capitol of Centaurie Tetrax looked so beautiful as it glittered around them, a sea of metal and colourful lights. Even in the greyness of pre-dawn, it was _home_. The sights and smells and sounds of the beautiful, colourful, familiar city. Coming into the spark of the capitol had been like walking into a warm embrace, where you knew you were protected and loved.

Sunstreaker stared out the window blankly, failing to see beyond the glass. He didn't feel happy to be home. He didn't feel relieved to be away from Kaon. He didn't feel anything at all, actually. The void that had settled inside his spark joors before had yet to release him from its grasp. Images of the gladiators kept replaying in his head.

Next to him, Sideswipe had his back to the window. He rocked back and forth gently, his expression never changing. After having screamed and cried himself into numb silence, he hadn't said a word. He jumped whenever someone looked at him or tried to talk to him. Whenever Sunstreaker reached out to touch his hand, Sideswipe would jerk away.

Without their noticing, the aircraft they were riding zipped its way through the capitol. Neither twin noticed when the transport craft was setting down at their terminal. It took Blindside several tries to get their attention, and when he did, he frowned at their expressions. They were just so… He couldn't describe it. He'd never seen either youngling with such blank expressions on their faceplates. Out of concern, he scanned them. Nothing wrong came up on sensors.

"You two have been awfully quiet this whole trip," he said.

Sideswipe's optics got wide and he trembled, as if the effort to speak would be the undoing that would send him into hysterics again. Sunstreaker tried to say something, he even managed to crack his mouthplates open, but only came up with a dry squeaking sound.

Blindside's faceplate creased even deeper in concern. "Oh dear… Wildride, get in here! Come take a look at these two."

Wildride suddenly appeared at his mate's side, leaning in to get a better look at his wayward creations. "What's wrong?"

"I think they might have picked up a virus," Blindside said. "I'm not picking up anything on my scanners, but they're just acting so strange…"

Sunstreaker stared blankly up at his creators, but their Kaon-inspired dark paint only inspired more visions of death. He slowly looked away. Gritting himself, he forced a couple of simple words out his mouthplates- "We're fine."

"I bet they're just missing Kaon already," Wildride teased, nudging his mate.

Blindside did not look convinced. "Once we get back to the coliseum, I'll make an appointment to see a medic."

"You're worrying over nothing, Blindside," Wildride laughed. He nudged the twins. "Am I right? You two are fine, aren't you?"

The twins peered up at Wildride with a mixture of frustration and helplessness. How could the mech be so blind? How could he not see how awful Kaon was? He'd lived with the Kaon troupe for several vorns, for spark's sake! In all that time, he hadn't noticed that the Kaon troupe's favourite sport was to watch bots be torn apart in a ring?

A tremor passed through Sideswipe's frame as he stared at his creator. Wildride looked too much like Wildrider. Same frame. Same paint. It was too much to look at so soon after what they had just seen in Kaon. True, it had been several joors since they'd witnessed the horrible scene, but forever seemed too soon to face a horror like that. Something cracked in Sideswipe. The numbness was starting to fade and boiling emotion started to rush up.

Sunstreaker jerked straight, sensing the growing storm rising in his twin. He swung around and grabbed Sideswipe's hand, squeezing it as tightly as he could. He forced as much calm as he could into his brother. It didn't really offer any real calm, but it did plug the gaping hole of panic that was opening up. Sideswipe whimpered, leaning to the side to lay his head to Sunstreaker's shoulder.

Blindside and Wildride looked on with curious expressions. They had no idea what was really going on.

Sunstreaker met Blindside's stare, determinedly avoiding Wildride's gaze. "We're just tired, that's all," he croaked. His voice sounded rusty, a bit shaky. "We didn't recharge well after the party…" _because we were too busy watching someone die_ "and it's been a really long flight back home."

Blindside straightened up, not looking completely convinced. "Well, I suppose you two would be tired…" He exchanged an arched look with his sparkmate, who shrugged. With a sigh, Blindside continued, "You'll be able to catch up on your recharge now that we're home."

There came a tapping at the windows opposite of them. Wildride leaned over to exchange a few words with Blaze, who was standing outside with the rest of the troupe.

"We're packed and ready to go," said the pyrotechnic diretor.

"Sounds good to me," replied Wildride. He turned back to his family. "You heard the mech, time to go. You'll be in your berths before you know it."

The twins let themselves be swept along in the movement. They couldn't remember who carried them out of the aircraft, and they didn't know who they rode in to get to the coliseum. The whole trip felt like it took an astrosecond. One moment, they closed their optics, and the next they were opening them at the colourful front doors of their home.

"Ah, it feels so good to be home!" Flashdance exclaimed as he transformed out of his alt mode and gave a good stretch.

The doors flung up and two pastel whizzing blurs came shooting out.

"Finally, you're back!" Skyfly exclaimed, whirling and twirling.

"It's been so lonely and quiet without you!" Clouddrift trilled.

Thrillride held her arms open. "Oh, we'ved missed you, too! It was far too monochrome in Kaon without you!" They flew into her arms and affections were exchanged. Loud, laughing, loving affections.

"Look at all of you," Clouddrift laughed, looking up at all his family. "You look ridiculous!"

Flashdance struck a pose with his lovely dark paintjob. "Are you kidding? Black is very slimming!"

"Too bad it does nothing for your fat ego," Thrillride teased.

Flashdance deflated while everyone else laughed. Except for the twins. They didn't laugh, though no one noticed their lack of humour. They stayed close to each other on the ground, mostly hidden by Flicker's large alt mode.

Wildride leaned into the doorway of the coliseum and looked around inside. The hallway was dark and empty, shadowed even as dawn bloomed over the city. "Everyone still recharging, I take it?"

Skyfly shrugged, flying to Blaze's head to hug him. "Well, yeah, sure. Everyone wants to get as much rest as they possibly can before the show season starts. Flip has been working us to the wires the whole off-season. He's been real agitated, you know? We figured he just missed you guys and was taking it out on us."

Flashdance grinned. "Ha, suckers. You two should have come with us when Wildride invited you."

"We couldn't- you know the other aerials are lost without us," Skyfly sniffed haughtily.

"You just didn't want to go because Kaon's capitol is sunken underground and you're claustrophobic," replied the danced. "You missed out on a great season. I sure am looking forward to watching you guys on stage while we get this season off to relax."

The aerials exchanged arched looks, then regarded Flashdance with twin grins.

"Is that what you think you'll be doing?" Skyfly drawled, looking devilishly amused.

Flashdance's grin faded, suspicion taking its place. "What do you mean?"

Clouddrift settled on the dancer's shoulder, grinning in an evil kind of way. "What Skyfly is trying to say is that Flip has scheduled all of you to work the active season as well. No breaks for you."

"_What?"_ Flashdance exclaimed. "That's three show seasons in a row! That's abuse!"

"That's not fair!" Wildride whined loudly.

Flicker heaved a heavy sigh, sagging. "Why is Flip punishing us? What did we do now?"

The two aerials looked at each other and shrugged.

"How are we supposed to know that?" Clouddrift said. "If you got a problem with it, you gotta take it up with him."

Blaze scrubbed his faceplate tiredly. "Great, alright, we'll take it up with him when we see him. Can we get inside the building now? Standing out here is not improving anyone's mood right now." He started to usher everyone inside. The familiar embrace of the inner hall brought everyone a sense of peace. There was nothing like being home.

Sideswipe looked around morosely, disheartened to find that the magic of his home seemed to have faded. The colours weren't as bright. The smiles weren't as wide. It felt cold and distant to him. He kept seeing energon spattered over everything.

Skyfly zipped ahead of the group like a little pastel bug. "Good luck taking it up with Flip," he sang. "He went off yesterday and hasn't been back since. Flat out disappeared on us."

"Gone?" Blindside wondered worriedly.

"Pulled a Wildride," Clouddrift shrugged. "Just up and left without saying a word to anyone. Kind of rude if you ask me, but you know how he is."

"Oh, that's just great," Flashdance groused, his good mood completely gone. "He's probably hiding so he doesn't have to put up with us complaining to him. That damn old bot!"

"Say it a little louder, Flashdance. I'm sure there are bot still recharging that would love to hear you," Thrillride sighed.

Flashdance was not to be deterred. Three show seasons in a row was murder on a frame. Joints wore out. Sockets got all funny. Don't even get him started on damages to the knees and feet! Chipping! Stress fractures! Deformities and misalignments to the endoskeletons. Really, did Flip want them all to fall apart? He'd be paying for all of their new frames!

The twins exchanged strained looks. Sunstreaker arched an optic ridge. Sideswipe hung his head, his shoulders sagging low.

"We're going to go to our room," Sunstreaker announced for the rest of their family. There was no point standing around with them. They were all so cheerful and normal and unbothered, while the twins were miserable and disturbed. Being around everyone else made the twins hurt worse than they did before.

"Oh, sure, of course. We'll see you later, little ones," Blindside said with a kind smile.

"See you," Sunstreaker mumbled, turning with his brother toward the dormitories. As they retreated, they could hear Skyfly muttering to the others, "What's up with them?"

"They're just tired," Wildride muttered back.

The twins made it to the dorm wing without great incident. It was light enough in the coliseum that they were able to easily skirt around any shadow that looked too dark for their tastes. Passing closed doors, they could hear the rest of their extended family in different states of waking. Some still snored gently while still caught in the peaceful bliss of recharge, while others were up and shuffling about in their rooms. Luckily, no one came into the hall to cross the twins' path. They made it into their room in silence. They laid down on their berth together in silence. Everything was silence between them.

They did not fall into recharge even though they were exhausted.

Sideswipe stared at the ceiling, covered in vorns and vorns worth of graffiti. He'd always loved the graffiti in the room. There always seemed to be more of it whenever he looked. It was a window into the past. But now he just saw a mess of ugly scribbles across the walls and ceiling. He hated how cheerful everything looked. How happy and hopeful and cheeky all the writing was. It didn't seem right anymore to take delight in it.

Unable to look at anything anymore, he rolled onto his side to stare at Sunstreaker. The brown youngling laid on his back, his optics shuttered. It looked like he was recharging, but he was really just lying there pretending to be dead. Sensing Sideswipe's stare, Sunstreaker's optics cracked open. The light that glowed behind the lenses was pale now, the colour of ice. He stared at the ceiling, his gaze dead.

"We'll never be able to tell them," said the brown youngling. His voice was little more than a croaked sound.

Sideswipe dropped his gaze to the berth. _"I know." _His voice, too, was nothing more than a hoarse whisper.

Sunstreaker sighed, blinking slowly. He cycled his vents, the air rushing out of him coming out like a frigid breeze. "I can't believe we saw someone die…"

Sideswipe shuddered.

"It was so easy," Sunstreaker said, replaying the scene again for the thousandth time. The death of Deadbolt was ingrained in his memory banks. So shortly after witnessing it, and it was already a part of him. "I didn't think it was so easy."

Sideswipe shuttered his optics, curling into a tight little ball.

A pincer rose, and Sunstreaker stared at it with crude fascination, as it his pincer were Flamestrike's hand, and in the palm was a beating spark. "She just ripped his spark out and…"

"Stop! Primus, just muted it already!" Sideswipe snapped, his hands curling over his audio receptors. "I just want to forget!"

Sunstreaker's head fell to the side to watch his brother. The expression in his distant optics grew more pained. He tried to reach out to his brother, but it took him an astrosecond to find the connection. The fact that he had to search at all should have frightened him. As numb as he was, he felt nothing at all. The moment he touched Sideswipe, the red youngling jerked, shuddered, and then finally started crying again.

He cried, and he cried, and he cried.

Perhaps he would never stop crying for as long as lived.

Finally, when dawn had fully risen and most of the troupe was awake and training, save for the newly arrived group who were now blissfully recharging, the twins were able to pass out. There was relief in their unconsciousness. They were given blissful ignorance to the darkness they had just recently learned lived in abundance in their world.

They recharged in a deep, unfathomable state where their minds remained dark and unhaunted by their own terrible memories.

* * *

The orn that rose over Centaurie Tetrax's capitol was a bright day with beautiful pink carbon dioxide skies and yellow sulphur clouds. The distant star shone white-pink light that reflected like rainbows off the metal and glass of spires and skyscrapers. The tone of the city was cheerful as commuters were out on the transport ways and zipping along in the skyways, coming and going as they pleased.

Life went on as it always did: impersonal and oblivious as it bustled along at a brisk pace that slowed for no one.

The orn was so at odds with the personal misery of the twins that it seemed almost cruel that it existed at all. It was only a small consolation that the twins' exhaustion kept them ignorant of the pleasant orn. They stayed recharging in their quiet oblivion, peacefully dead to the world.

The bots of Centaurie Tetrax Performance and Exhibition Circuit, the large and loving family of the twins, had no idea of the trauma their precious little twins suffered from. For them, nothing was amiss in their lives. They were up, fuelled, and practicing by mid-morning. Not even Flip's strange disappearance was reason enough to interrupt their vigorous training schedules. With their show season fast coming up, none could afford to be lax.

The only bots not to be practicing were the ones recently arrived from Kaon. Much to their relief, they had the orn to catch up on their recharge. It was the only orn they were going to have to themselves before they were forced to buckle down with double the effort before their third show season in a row begun. They had a lot to catch up on

As with all life that hurries along at its own pace, always self-absorbed and never able to slow down, it is easy to miss when a stranger comes into the midst of friends.

However, it becomes even more difficult to detect such strangers when they are generally believed to be fantasies by the majority of the population.

Two such strangers had come into the Centaurie Tetrax Performance and Exhibition Circuit coliseum that orn.

Upon Cybertron, there were only a few bots whose optics and minds were open enough to see strangers such as these. The twins, whose optics and minds were open because they had never had a chance to be closed in the first place, would have been able to see the strangers with ease. In the twins' current conditions, neither would be happy to see the strangers. One of the creatures could be described as a tall, four-legged centaurian figure. Its faceplate was young and old at the same time, its unfocused gaze staring off into the distance rather than seeing the present. Its armour was comprised of a naturally dark metal whose blackness was incomplete when tiny dots of light glittered from the depths, as if the stars themselves lived within the metal, or else a thousand optics shone from within. Upon the centaur's shoulder was a tiny creature barely half the height of a youngling, its armour seemingly made of black crystal rather than metal. It was peaceful presence with a calm demeanour and a gentle disposition, sitting as delicately as a cloud upon the horizon.

The outline of both their forms was vague, fading into the ether as if they were not completely part of the world they walked in. As they passed through the halls of the coliseum, their sweet scent of long-kept secrets and benign interest in the beings of Cybertron lingered. Their optics were bejewelled beacons of bright amber light.

As they wondered unseen through the corridors of the coliseum, they spoke to each other.

"Tell me, dearest brother, do you really plan to wake Alpha Trion?" wondered the crystal creature, her tone pleasantly curious. The sound of her voice was very much like the tinkling of crystals.

"Yes, I do," replied the centaur. His voice was enchantingly rich, yet his tone was restrained, as if he was just holding on to his temper.

One black diamond finger rose and tapped a delicate chin thoughtfully. "You are an awfully brave Seer, or else you are very foolish. You know how he hates to be woken up. Such a grumpy Engineer he is. He has those silly rules of his..." There came a tinkling laugh like music.

"Oh yes, those silly rules of his: do not wake him unless a Lord Protector is being promoted, a Prime is being inaugurated, or it's the end of the world. With criteria like that, it is a wonder why he bothers to wake up at all," replied the centaur, snorting in distaste. "Luckily, I happen to _not_ care about them. He will be hearing from me as soon as we are done here."

"I would expect nothing less," said the crystal creature.

"You may expect much more," came the curt reply.

Large amber optics blinked slowly, the light in them glittering. "You really are upset over this, aren't you? This whole… _situation_, as you would put it."

"Extremely so."

That crystal finger continued to tap thoughtfully. "Well, I can't say I'm much happy with it myself. It was such unpleasant business in Kaon, but our hands were tied. You know that. Oh, that Fallen blasted thing!" A diamond hand waved a frustrated gesture in the air. "Kaon is his. There is very little we can do when he holds the majority power of the terriorty. We may have fought him before, but ultimately, it was his move to make in the end and there was very little we could do to stop it."

"Zionaphamaelia… Zion, please, don't spout that slag to me," spat the centaur, his dark armour shuddering. "There was any number of things we could have done to… to make it not so horrible. The twins are absolutely ruined now. _Devastated_. It was far too soon to expose them to something like that."

Zion's optics dimmed, looking chastised. "No one ever said playing this game was easy."

A shudder passed through the centaur, his temper flaring. "Please do not use the phrase _no one_ in front of me right now. I do not wish to hear of that demon."

"My apologies. I did not mean to be _flippant_ with the remark," came the huffed reply.

Their exchange hung heavy in the air until the centaur shook his head. His temper faded into a repentant melancholy. "I do not need your apologies, dearest Zion. I am the one who should be sorry for taking my frustrations out on you, dear one. I am grateful you agreed to my request to come, and here I thank you with only anger and rudeness."

"Apology accepted, Seer," Zion said.

Seer, for that was the title he had been created with, still looked as if the weight of the universe rested upon him. "I wish I did not have play this game at all. If only I could be like Alpha Trion, blissfully ignorant in sleep. Some orns it is so difficult to accept the courses of action we take."

"Oh Centauron, you sound more mortal every orn," Zion admonished with a touch of playfulness. "You know better than anyone that what we do is for the better in the long run."

Centauron's gaze slid away to stare into the distance, his optics focused yet vague. "For the better? What _better_, Zion? What we do is for the furthering of our own agendas. We can only hope that our machinations evolve into the desired outcome, no matter the damages we incur in the meantime."

"Collateral damage," Zion sighed, looking to the side. "A necessary evil."

"It is our disregard for the sparks we manipulate that make us little better then our Fallen brother," Centauron replied.

"Now you're taking it too far, Centauron. There is a fine line between what we do and what he does. _We_ never sold our sparks to the Unmaker," Zion snapped. As they were passing a window, the glass pane cracked. But Zion's temper faded as soon as it appeared. She was the Keeper of Peace, and as such she often had a hard time holding on to any volatile emotion. She shook her head and crossed her arms over her crystalline chest. "Can we agree to disagree on this issue? I would much rather not argue with you when I so seldom get to see you."

"Yes, of course…" Centauron bowed his head. It was the same exchange he had with most of his brethren; they tolerated him because he was one of them, but very few understood his affinity for the living sparks of Cybertron. For the others, they were too far removed from normal life to understand what it was like to live, laugh, and love. They only knew their obedience to their sleeping Maker. Centauron was among the living sparks of Cybertron in a far more intimate fashion, and his time with them certainly gave him a different way to see things.

Zion patted him sympathetically on the side of his head.

Knowing Centaurie Tetrax better than any other creature on Cybertron, Centauron led himself into the dormitories of the coliseum and immediately found the door he was looking for. It was locked. The twins must not have wanted company. No matter. Locked doors usually did not deter creatures who didn't use them. Both Centauron and Zion breezed into the room with ease, finding it bright and cheerful with sunlight filtering into the room and setting off all the colourful paint that layered every surface. Then their gazes fell to two dark spots in all the joy. Even in recharge, where they were supposed to have escaped their miseries, it appeared that their misery still clung to them.

Centauron immediately looked away. He could not stand the sight of them as they were. He could see their misery as if it were a physical thing hanging over them, a dark veil that clung to their frames, smothering and suffocating them. And beyond that, he could see the fates that had been set in motion thanks to him and his brethren. He could see flashes of what was to come; possible choices and the fates that would come from each choice made. There were too many shadows to count. It was enough to make Centauron hate himself for what he was.

Zion made the leap between Centauron's shoulder and the low berth far below. She landed with a graceful tap, clicking her way over to the twins. She was so tiny compared to everything in the room, standing at barely half the twins' height. Her crystalline shape caught in the sunlight, making her glitter and flare like black fire.

"I'm raising my price," she suddenly announced as she looked the twins over.

Centauron's amber gaze narrowed. "We agreed on the price of one secret in exchange for easing their torment."

"Yes, but there are _two_ of them," Zion pointed out in a reasonable tone. "I want two secrets in exchange for this, one for each spark."

With a grunt, the Seer nodded his consent: two secrets in exchange for helping the twins. Perhaps if they had been anything other than what they were, two secrets might not have been a steep price. But for them, even a single secret was a steep price to pay. It could mean the admittance of a machination that could be ruined now that someone else knew. Other could manipulate circumstance for their own desired outcome. For himself, he could be asked to tell a secret of what was to come, a possible future that could happen- dangerous knowledge for anyone possess. But the twins were Tetraxian, they were his, so he would pay Zion's price.

With the business portion of their deal done, Zion crouched between the twins and placed a single finger to each of their foreheads. There was no magic involved. She required no fancy lights or spoken words. Peace came best in silence. It took only a moment to do what needed to be done. When she pulled back, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe's faceplates eased and the pall that hung over them faded.

The tension in Centauron slowly eased away.

"I did not take their memories away," said the Keeper of Peace. "They may still remember what happened, but will do so with less torment involved. They will see what happened, but it will be as if it is a memory of a memory. It is not a permanent solution, though. The next trauma they experience may easily undo everything I have done."

"It is good enough for now," Centauron replied, pleased to have brought some temporary relief to such young creatures. They had enough horrors in store for their futures, the didn't need to live through any more in their present.

He called Zion to his palm, where she sat down gracefully. They began to leave, only to sense movement behind them. It was barely a shuffle, a tiny whisper of noise in the silent room. The Seer already knew there would a pair of tiny optics watching them. Without turning around, he inclined his head. "Sideswipe."

"I hate you," said the youngling. His voice was no longer hoarse. It was young and smooth, angry and scared.

The Seer canted his head, glad not to be looking at the youngling so that his expression would not be seen. When he spoke, his voice was as even as always, if not a bit morose. "I can accept that. I hate myself a little bit, too."

Sideswipe's glare could be felt as hotly as a laser beam. "I don't ever want to see you again. I don't want to see any of you things again."

Centauron bowed his head. That was a promise he could not keep. "Please try to recharge, little one. Everything will better when next you wake… _I hope_."

* * *

The next time the twins did wake, things weren't exactly better. But things weren't exactly worse, either.

The beginning of the show season came with a flurry of hectic activity. There was always a thousand little things left to the last minute that had to be done, or else had been forgotten until the most inconvenient time. All hands were on deck as bots raced this way and that, preparing for the show that would start their off season with bang.

Sunstreaker relaxed in one of the seats that circled that main arena, his tablet balanced in front of him on his lap. His gaze strayed to the arena floor where he watched two running bots with their arms full of random things collide head first with each other. They both squealed in surprise, their supplies flying in every direction. Lights and ribbons, streamers and fliers, and an unfortunate can of paint fluttered, flew, and splashed everywhere in a rainbow of chaos. While the two bots dropped to the floor to collect their respective messes, another bot with his arms full came by, and without seeing the two on the floor, he tripped right over them and added his mess to the growing chaos.

Several stuntbots stopped their practice routine to lounge on the equipment and laugh at the scene. Sideswipe was among the lounging bots, laughing right along with them.

Blaze clapped his hands, regaining the distracted attentions of the working stuntbots. In Flip's absence, he was director of the entire circuit. He worked well under pressure, and this certainly wasn't the first time he ever had to work without Flip, but his own absence during the off season worked against him. Lightshow, as third in command of the circuit, helped fill in a lot of the blanks for the new routines. The only difficulty with Blaze being the [temporary] director was that too many bots thought of him as a brother before they thought of him as a director, and therefore were a little more inclined to ignore his orders.

"Alright, alright, you've had your laughs," Blaze called to the lounging bots, motiong for them to get moving. "We have a show to put on, you half-bits. Come on, get a move on. Yes, you too, Sideswipe."

Sunstreaker's gaze flickered to his twin, watching as the red bot pouted for a moment, then heaved a heavy sigh. As the others got back to their practicing, he did as well. Since the red youngling was all done his downloads, Wildride had decided to start his apprenticeship early, even though Sideswipe had yet to reformat. Not that Sideswipe was doing anything extraordinary. He had a few somersaults and a bit of dancing during the show- nothing complicated or dangerous. The way he went on about it, you'd think he was the star of the entire show.

Sunstreaker rolled his optics and drew his attention back to his tablet. He'd left it idle too long and the screen went dark, reflecting back to him his own mirror image. Since the orn he had been created, he had been stuck in his ugly brown frame. Not an orn had passed when he liked his reflection, especially when compared to the beauty he was surrounded by. But now when he saw himself, he saw something that hadn't been there before. It was change that only himself and Sideswipe seemed to see… Or perhaps they were the only ones willing to pay the change any mind.

The change wasn't big. Not drastic at all. His optics had simply changed. Not in size or shape, but in essence. The way they looked out at the world, the way they looked back at himself; they were sharper, more crystalline. Maybe he was exaggerating, or being a washy poet about it, but when he looked into his own optics it was like staring into two chips of ice. The coolness of his stare was something he had yet to get used to. But not just yet. He turned his tablet over so his reflection did not stare back. He glanced out to the arena again, watching his brother.

Sideswipe was not unaffected. He, too, had changed in a less noticeable way. Before, he had been open and carefree, trusting and cheeky. Now he was... different. He was more prone to keeping secrets. He wasn't quieter per se, but not quite as loud as before. Just as it was with Sunstreaker, something now lurked behind Sideswipe's optics that had not been there before.

In the back of their minds, it was always there, haunting them. The blaze of red optics. The flash of striking claws. It was their own terrible secret that they would take to death and beyond. Seeing death had changed them. They thought it had broken them, too. Yet… they stood steady. They had woken up that morning and felt disturbingly at ease with themselves. They recalled the memory perfectly, but where there should have been rage and anger and torment there was only a sick, shallow sense of... peace. A neutral remembrance that failed to summon anything stronger than the vague urge to think of something else. Where there had been fire, there was now ice. Sideswipe had whispered only once, very briefly, that two of the strange bots that lived underground had visited them while they recharged. He was certain that they had done something to them; the mere thought made both twins sick. They had had enough of _other __things_ meddling in their lives.

Was it too much to ask to be left alone?

So intent was Sunstreaker on his own internal thoughts that he did not realize that someone was now sitting beside him.

"I wonder…" said the mech, "…what you could be thinking about for you to be wearing such a serious expression?"

Sunstreaker's optics shot wide, his whole frame jerking around. Sitting next to him with the greatest of nonchalance was none other than… "Flip!"

"Sunstreaker." The director inclined his head, his old gaze zeroing in on Sunstreaker's optics. A long finger reached out, curling beneath the youngling's chin and tilting his faceplate up. Upon meeting the old mech's stare, Sunstreaker shuddered. He almost looked away. Staring into those too-deep, too-knowing depths, the youngling was reminded that Flip could see the dead. What if he could see Deadbolt's dead frame reflected in Sunstreaker's optics? Whatever Flip saw, he gave no outward signs of seeing anything at all. His expression did not change. It was the same unreadable expression the director always wore. Before Sunstreaker was forced to look away, Flip turned his own head as if he could not bear to watch Sunstreaker any longer.

Sunstreaker clutched his tablet tightly between his hands, drawing it close to his chassis like a flimsy shield. "W-where have you been, Flip?"

The old director sagged. He looked exhausted. "I've been around." He glanced back at the little youngling. "Your optics… they're different now."

"Yeah, they are," Sunstreaker mumbled, looking away. Of course Flip would be the only bot to notice the change. But luckily, he was also one of the only bots who wouldn't question the change, even though changing optical colours was prohibited for younglings.

Sunstreaker suddenly felt a shiver run through his spark, then he looked up to see Sideswipe frozen in place on the arena floor. His faceplate was unreadable, as well as his spark. Sunstreaker canted his head, reached out to the red sparkling, and felt the rage of a thousand strange and whirling emotions bursting through his brother, pulsating as if Sideswipe could not decide what he was supposed to feel.

As if sensing the youngling's stare, Flip turned to meet it. They stared for what felt like forever, and then Sideswipe shuddered and looked away.

Having initially missed Sunstreaker's shout of surprise upon Flip's arrival, several stuntbots' attention was caught when they realized Sideswipe was no longer performing. When they followed the youngling's gaze to whatever he was staring at, their expressions lit up when they realized their director had returned. The sizeable collection of performers scattered across the arena dropped what they were doing immediately, planning to welcome Flip back properly.

"I'm not here to stay," announced the old mech, halting the procession. "Don't waste your greetings just yet. I'm only here to pick something up and then I'll be gone again."

"But-!" Flashdance began, chomping at the bit to finally be able to have some words with the old mech.

"Save it for another time, Flash," replied Flip, effectively dismissing him.

"You haven't called or anything, Flip. Some of us were getting worried," Blindside intoned.

It appeared to be some effort for the old mech to summon a reassuring smile to his faceplate, but the effort was only seen by Sunstreaker. The rest of the troupe only saw the smile and were eased by it.

"I'm sorry for not contacting you. I did not realize I was worrying anyone," Flip said. "I've been away in places where long distances calls were hard to make. I'll be away a little bit longer, but I should be back before mid-season. Hopefully sooner."

"I definitely hope sooner than later," Wildride sighed.

Flip gave an imperiously wave of his hand, ordering everyone back to their original tasks. He was far more effective in controlling the stuntbots than Blaze, not even needing words to direct them. Blaze sent the director a grateful nod, turning on his heel to return to directing the rest of the troupe on the arena floor. The only one to refuse to return to practise was Sideswipe, who instead approached warily.

"What are you here for, Flip?" Sideswipe asked as he came close, standing at the bottom of the rise of bleacher seats. The youngling's optics were reserved, his expression tight; he had finally settled on a single emotion to feel, which Sunstreaker interpreted as suspicion. It was odd to feel that from Sideswipe, who used to be so trusting. It was also odd because Flip was normally the mech Sideswipe invested his undying loyalty into.

"I'm just here for your frame designs," said the director. "While I was away, I happened to stumble upon an old engineer friend who owed me a favour. He'll be constructing your frames for you, but I mustn't be long getting the designs for him or there'll be no stopping his grousing. He's a rather… temperamental old git."

For a very brief moment, Sideswipe's wariness was broken in order to giggle.

Sunstreaker was already flipping through his files on his tablet in order to retrieve both his and Sideswipe's frame designs. "This is what I have so far," he said, holding out the tablet with the files opened on it. Between meeting Tracks during the last Kaon show and everything that happened later that day, Sunstreaker had only had enough time to choose the optical model he wanted for his frame. Everything else was completed. Sideswipe's chosen frame was exactly the one the rest of the troupe selected him- lithe, flexible, flamboyant, and just enough obnoxiousness for him to fit in with the rest of them.

Flip transferred the files quickly, nodding as he did so. "These are beautiful designs," he commented.

"What's the engineer's designation?" Sunstreaker wondered. Not that he was really going to be picky about something like that, but… well, a bot had to be a little bit discriminating towards the engineer who was going to be building the frame you planned to reformat into. It was a big deal. A big decision. And seeing as the twins were _The Twins_, some serious credentials were in order. Preferably someone from Alta Trius; that was a good, solid territory known for its fashions and incredible feats of engineering.

Flip canted his head for a moment, as if it were an effort to recall his so-called friend's designation. "I believe he's calling himself A3 as of late."

Sunstreaker crinkled his olfactory sensor. "Never heard of him. Are you sure he's any good?"

A real smile, albeit one layered with so many unsaid things, crept across Flip's tired faceplate, making him look a little less exhausted. His optics glinted under the bright stage lights. "Oh yes, dear spark, he's one of the best."


	22. Chapter 14

I know it's barely been a week since my last update, but I really want to post this new chapter to get the story moving again. The last chapter was a little stagnant and I didn't want to leave _Surface of the Sun_ hanging there for too long. I think this chapter is bound to bring a little life back to the story. I hope no one minds such a rapid update. =P

**Faecat**- Poor younglings, indeed. Their lives get meddled with more than the Scooby gang meddle with crooks' plans. ^_^; You don't have long to wait to see them reformatted, though- that is actually going to happen very soon. =) I'm glad that you found some enjoyment in the last chapter, but hopefully this update here will bring things up a bit. ^_^

**GemDragon22**- You don't have long to wait for their reformatting- it's actually going to happen very, very soon. It'll be a whole new can of worms when they do get into their new frames. =P As for who builds their frames… some mysteries aren't meant to be solved just yet. ^_^

**TransformersLover95**- Lol, you're a unique person. There aren't a lot of people who like reading the boring, normal stuff. =P It's still relatively early in the twins' journey to becoming the WE twins in my other stories, but you can definitely see the beginnings of their transformation. There's much more to come. *evil grin*

**SavvyEnigmaxBanditgirl**- Haha, I'm happy that I could make you so happy with the update. There are a lot of things in store for both Sunstreaker and Sideswipe. You'll just have to stay tuned to find out. =P

**femme4prime**- You're too right- it probably would have been better if The Powers That Be never noticed the twins, but they stick out a little too much to ever go unnoticed for long. ^_^; As for the darkness that is to come in the twins' future… don't worry, there's still a bit of light left before it's extinguished…

**Daklog74**- The reformatting chapter is coming up soon, and I can say that A3 is certainly an interesting character. =P And I'm very flattered that you like Flip. He's a really great character to write for, though I cannot confirm or deny if anything happens to him in the future. What I _can_ say is that there will be sad things happening… =(

**SEZwho94**- Thank you very much, I'm glad you liked the chapter. I try to make things as believable as possible. ^_^ As for the Transformers lore, I'm deeply flattered that you find the development convincing. It's a lot of fun bringing it all to life. ^_^

**DitzyMusicLover**- Well, someone called A3 is going to be building Sunstreaker and Sideswipe's frames. I cannot confirm or deny if there is any connection between A3 and Alpha Trion. However, I can say that I'm happy that you're caught up with the story and enjoying it thus far. I hope you continue to enjoy the fic. ^_^

**MoonstarWorld**- Sideswipe and Sunstreaker work as an interesting balance. They can hold each other up, or they can drag each other down. The only thing that can never change about them is that they can never walk away from each other. That's going to mean a lot when they get older…

**Marsh Queen**- Thank you so much, I'm glad you like the writing. The mythology is a lot of fun to design for the story. ^_^

This chapter is dedicated to **FunkyFish1991**, who happens to be the most talented little fish that ever swam the oceans. She is a talented artist and illustator, and sometimes I don't know what I would do without her. *hugs*

Read, Review, & Enjoy, my friends~

**Chapter 14**

"How about this one?"

Sunstreaker glanced up, saw which picture Skyfly was holding up on the screen of a data pad, then frowned. "No."

"This one?" Clouddrift wondered, holding up another picture.

Sunstreaker switched his gaze to the new picture, wrinkling his olfactory sensor. "No way."

"You're so picky," Skyfly sighed, flicking through his data pad again to admire all the handsome pictures of all the potential painters Sunstreaker could apprentice under.

Sunstreaker grunted, ignoring the minor slight against him. It wasn't the first time he'd been called picky during the course of the morning. Indeed, throughout the whole process of trying to settle on his future mentor, there had been more than a few bots teasing him over his pickiness. One or two had also pointed out how solemn Sunstreaker was in the matter. The youngling took neither comment to spark. He needed to be picky because choosing the right mentor was one of the most important things a youngling ever had to do. There wasn't much he could do for his solemn demeanour; he and Sideswipe were having a hard time getting back to their old selves.

"If I were you, I'd go for one of the good looking ones," Skyfly continued. He held up a picture of a _really_ good looking painter; a handsome femme called Multi-hue. Sunstreaker knew the femme's credentials off by spark, just as he knew everyone else's. Multi-hue was from the outer regions of the Polyhex territory, often painting extravagant murals on the sides of buildings. He had some wonderful prestige for his work, was well known in his area. By all means, he was a good choice. However, when Sunstreaker looked at him, he didn't feel anything special.

"This is my future I'm trying to decide," the brown youngling sighed, one pincer tiredly rubbing at an optic. "I have to find a _connection_ to my mentor. It has to feel right for me if I'm going to go off somewhere to learn to be a painter from them."

"You're looking for a 'connection'?" Skyfly asked unimpressively, arching an optic ridge.

"Yes," Sunstreaker replied curtly. He was now regretting his momentary flash of foolishness that morning when he agreed to let the aerials help him sort through his long list of potential mentors.

Skyfly shrugged, ignoring the youngling's attitude. "Never had no _connection_ when I went into my apprenticeship."

"Neither did I," Clouddrift intoned, his head down as he continued to sort through the many bots who wished to be Sunstreaker's mentor.

"That's because you two didn't have to have a connection. You never had to go looking for the right kind of mentor because they were all right here," Sunstreaker snorted, reviewing his own growing pile of possible mentor candidates. "Everything was easy for you because you already knew everyone here. The coliseum was already your home. I don't get to have that."

"If you found a mentor here, you'd get to stay here and you wouldn't have to get all antsy about everything," Clouddrift reasoned.

The youngling sent him a dirty look.

"I still say you're being picky," Skyfly shrugged. He held up one last image. "Tell me you wouldn't mind apprenticing under this gorgeous faceplate. This is the faceplate of an avatar right here!"

Sunstreaker glanced up to see yet another painter he was unimpressed by. He gave Skyfly a look that said as much, causing the aerial to deflate.

"Can I at least keep the picture?" the flier asked.

"Do what you want," Sunstreaker mumbled.

The aerial happily did as he pleased, leaning over to let Clouddrift whistle over the handsomeness of the photo.

Sunstreaker sighed, not even bothering to sift through any more candidates. There were too many of them, and none of them struck his fancy. Ever since word had gotten out that he would soon be reformatting and would be in need of a mentor, dozens of resumes had started flowing in.

If things had been normal, Sunstreaker would have had to do the research himself. He would have had to find the artists he thought were good for him, send a letter of request to be their apprentice, and strike up an appropriate rapport with them. In his case, everything was in reverse; painters from all over the planet, from Cybertron's moons, and even a few from the colonies, were sending in resumes to show how great they would be as the mentor to Sunstreaker. Some were sincere about it, and others were only looking for the fame it would bring them to be the mentor of a spark-split twin. Every orn, there were more and more messages for him, and with each new one, he became a little more overwhelmed.

Of the dozens of bots he'd looked at, no one seemed to have that special quality he was looking for. A lot of them had very impressive credentials. Some of the artists were world-class painters. They had galleries and exhibitions; some of them even traded with alien species. But when Sunstreaker looked at their picture, none of them made him want to smile. His spark didn't race for them. He felt no excitement.

Out of mounting frustration, he hunched over and sighed.

The aerials who sat with him at the tiny table in the bright common room glanced at each other, clearly at a loss as to what kind of advice they could give the poor bot. They glanced up to the small number of other bots in the room, but none of them could offer anything better. They were all stuntbots, created and raised, and had never had any need to go beyond their own coliseum. None of them would be any help for Sunstreaker.

Even Sideswipe was little help, only seeming to make Sunstreaker's mood worse whenever the red youngling expressed his relief that he didn't have to go through the same craziness that Sunstreaker was.

Clouddrift suddenly jerked up with an excited snap. "Oh, wait, you know who you could talk to?"

Sunstreaker shrugged. "Flip?"

Only… Flip still hadn't returned from wherever he had gone. He called every once in a while to see how the season was going, but the calls were brief and unpredictable. Until he returned to the coliseum, he'd be little help to anyone.

"Okay, yeah, if Flip were here he'd be great to talk to, but I was going to say Thrillride," Clouddrift said.

"Oh yeah!" Skyfly exclaimed. "Thrillride would be perfect!"

"Why?" Sunstreaker wondered curiously.

"Because she's had experience looking outside the circuit for a mentor," Clouddrift explained. "It was a long while ago, but when she was a youngling, she wanted to go off and be a scholar. It took her nearly a vorn to find the right institution to study at and the right mentor to be with. It was big hullabaloo, I gotta tell you."

"What was the designation of the mentor she chose? Handsome thing, he was," Skyfly purred.

Clouddrift thought for a moment, then answered, "Sunstorm, I think."

"Sunstorm! Right, that's what it was," Skyfly exclaimed merrily. "Seekers get my engine revving so bad."

Sunstreaker chose to outright ignore that statement. Instead, he said, "I didn't know that about Thrillride." He had always assumed the femme was like everyone else, that performing in the circuit was all she had ever wanted to do. She'd never said anything to make him think otherwise. "Why didn't she go off to be a scholar?"

The aerials exchanged cheeky glances.

"Well, see, she really was going to off, but plans change," Clouddrift began, and then laughed. "On the night that she reformatted, we threw a big party for her down at _Spinning Wheels_. From what I heard, she and Blaze hit it off that night. I mean _really_ hit it off." He waggled his optics suggestively, leaving no room for Sunstreaker to imagine what happened.

"Please stop wiggling your optic ridges at me," Sunstreaker sighed.

The aerial did, continuing with his story: "It was one of those _instant_ things you hear about. You can know a bot for vorns and vorns and vorns, interface with them all normal and slag, and then in one moment your minds touch in just the right way and _BAM!_ You suddenly know you're right for each other."

"The rest is history," Skyfly shrugged. "Thrillride decided that she would stick around here and be a performer so she could be with Blaze. It was vorns and vorns after that before they worked up the courage to really go exclusive, and then it was another _eon_ before they sparkbonded with each other, but yeah…" He waved a hand airily in the air. "Since she went through all that crazy stuff looking for a mentor, you'd be better off talking to her."

Stunned by the sudden revelation, Sunstreaker sat there nodding. "Yeah, I'll go talk to her. Thanks, you two. You really helped me out."

"As thanks for all our help, can I keep this picture?" Skyfly asked happily, holding up yet another attractive headshot.

"And this one?" Clouddrift asked, holding up a personal favourite.

"Keep them all if you want," the youngling shrugged. He pushed to his feet with the intention of going off to find Thrillride. She couldn't be far, since only two night ago she'd twisted the tension wires in her foot during a show and had had to have her foot repaired. Most likely she was in the media room watching the news or a holovid while her foot recovered.

Sideswipe slid down from his perch on Flicker's knee, trotting over to his brother. "I'll come with you wherever you're going," he said, clearly bored with hanging out with the other bots. While orns with no shows scheduled came as a great relief to the majority of the group, letting them rest and recuperate, but Sideswipe got bored easily. He didn't like having nothing to do.

Sunstreaker was glad for the company, taking his brother's hand and squeezing it.

Several bots jerked in surprise as the loud ringer for the visitor's door buzzed obnoxiously. Instantly, Sideswipe's claim to stay with Sunstreaker fell short in light of answering the door.

"I'll get it!" screamed the red youngling, racing off. He had so much pent up energy, he practically vibrated with it as he ran. He wanted to be doing something. Anything. Even training sounded better than sitting around listening to Sunstreaker mope about not being able to find a mentor. The bot had over two hundred painters looking to mentor him and he couldn't make up his mind? Sideswipe agreed with Skyfly: Sunstreaker was _picky._

Sideswipe didn't get to the door fast enough before whoever was on the other side buzzed the ringer again.

For a very brief moment, the youngling thought it might be Flip on the other side of the door. Maybe he was finally back with their completed frames! Damn it, Sideswipe wanted his new frame. He wanted this part of his life over and done with and wanted to begin the next part of his life as soon as possible.

But then Sideswipe shook himself of any silly hopeful thoughts. If the frames were being delivered, they'd come through the main doors in the front of the coliseum, not the smaller vistor's door on the side. If Flip was finally back, he wouldn't bother to buzz the door. He'd show up out of nowhere and pretend he'd been there the whole time. Ringing the buzzer was for _normal_ bots.

The door buzzed for a third time.

"Hold your horsepower! I'm coming!" Sideswipe yelled. He skidded to a halt at the control panel and unlocked the door. "There, you can come in now!"

Not even a moment later, the door slid open.

Sideswipe glanced up briefly, froze, and then did a double take of what he saw. He let his gaze rove very slowly over the breath-taking vision that filled the doorway. She was the femme that every bot on Cybertron knew, though they rarely heard of her in the media. Sideswipe had seen pictures of her, plenty of holograms, but seeing her in person now… he knew there wasn't a pixel in the universe that could do this femme justice. He wasn't an expert in beauty like Sunstreaker was, but Sideswipe was far from blind; he knew a specially handcrafted one-of-a-kind frame made by masters when he saw one. Her design was clearly Crystal City inspired. She was delicate and optic-catching with her sparkling rose paint and stunning clear blue optics. She was a piece of living art that made Sideswipe forget his own designation.

The femme bowed politely in greeting as she stared down at the youngling that had come to greet her. "Hello, you must be Sideswipe, yes?"

"Guhhhhhh…"

"I'll take that as a yes. I've heard a lot about you," said the femme, her smile lighting up her faceplate until it was impossible to look away. "I'm actually here to see your brother, Sunstreaker. Is he here at moment?"

Nodding dumbly, Sideswipe managed to tear his awestruck gaze away from the living avatar that stood in the vistor's doorway. He took a deep drag of air, and then…

"SUNSTREAKER! ELITA ONE IS HERE TO SEE YOU!"

* * *

The ensuing flurry of chaos that came in the wake of Sideswipe's announcement threw the whole troupe into an excited tizzy.

No one had known Elita One was coming.

There had been no messages.

No warning.

She just _appeared_ on their doorstep.

She wasn't the only one to come, though. Not far behind her was the protective looming presence of High Lord Protector Megatron. Both had been ushered into the coliseum by a dumbstruck Sideswipe. For most strangers, he would have been inclined to struck up a conversation. Even for Megatron, who he knew vaguely from the one or two encounteres he'd had over the vorns, he would have been happy to chat. However, standing in Elita One's presence appeared to have struck the red youngling speechless. He stood silently in the hall and stared at her with wide optics.

Because _damn_, she was beautiful.

Elita accepted the staring with good humour. She was quite used to similar behaviour wherever she went. Bots were often stunned by her frame design, which Optimus had had commissioned as a gift for her. If it wasn't the frame that got to them, they were simply stunned to meet her in person. Unlike her sparkmate, Elita was not normally a public figure and public appearances were a rare occurrence. One little youngling staring at her was not the worst thing to have ever happened to her.

Megatron only huffed quietly, rolling his optics at the youngling. With nothing better to do, he clasped his hands behind his back and rocked on his heels as he waited impatiently for someone else to show up.

As quick as Sunstreaker's little legs could carry him, he came pelting around the corner with wide optics and heaving vents. He had taken one look at Elita One standing in the glow of one of the overhead lights, her glittering rose paint casting a warm glowing hue about her, and his legs tangled together. The floor came up and he smashed faceplate first into it.

"Oh dear-!" gasped the femme, instantly moving to help the youngling up.

"I'm okay! I'm okay!" Sunstreaker cried, leaping to his feet so fast that he was almost a blur.

"Are you sure? That was quite a fall," Elita said worriedly.

"Oh yeah, yeah, I've had worse!" Sunstreaker babbled, brushing himself off quickly. Humiliation burned so hotly through him that he feared he might go up in flames.

He looked up and discovered that Elita One had come closer, her expression a mixture of mild amusement and curiosity. For a brief moment, Sunstreaker was stunned yet again by her. Not just her looks but her… _everything_. The way she stood. The aura she emitted. Even the brief moment that he had heard her voice… There was neither a poet nor painter on Cybertron who could capture this femme's beauty and do her image justice.

Standing in her presence, the only thing Sunstreaker could think to do was bow repeatedly to her. He bowed so many times that he made himself dizzy. His mind reeled with the idea that she might be there to see him.

What reason could Elita One possibly have to see _him_?

It was then that the rest of the troupe had barged onto the scene and only added to the raucous as they saw who was standing in their midst. Like a bunch of oversized younglings, the whole crowd tripped over themselves to bring Elita One and Megatron into the inner sanctum of their home. The cleanest common room had been chosen to usher them into. The best seats were offered. The best energon brought out.

Megatron was quick to point out that he and Optimus had not received half as well a reception the last time they were here. In fact, he went on to lament, they never got as good a reception as Elita One tended to get.

To which Elita One had promptly whacked her protector with the admonishment that he was exaggerating.

It was true, it was an exaggeration… but not by much.

As it turned out, Elita One was not just a pretty faceplate. She was also an eloquent, intelligent, and patient femme. She smiled and greeted everyone with a regal air that was of the same kind as her mate. She exuded the same kind of noble grandness, though it was all contained in a frame half the size of the Prime's. With expert subtle manipulation that she only could have learned from dealing with the Council Pantheon for so long, she managed to finagle the majority of the troupe out of the room. The one to remain with her in the common room was Sunstreaker.

However, a chaperone did remain in the form of Megatron.

Elita gave him a not so subtle hint to leave in the form of making shooing motions with her hands. The Lord Protector arched both optic ridges, clearly incredulous to be ordered around as such. He decided to deliberately misunderstand what was being asked of him; instead of leaving the room, he moved the far side of it and sat down in front of the window.

Seeing as Megatron was family and not just some guard she could order around, Elita One rolled her optics and let the stubborn mech sit where he liked.

Sunstreaker sat on the tabletop of the table that separated him from Elita One. His mouthplates opened and closed a few times, but he wasn't able to come up with any words that sounded appropriate for this kind of meeting. Thankfully, he was relieved of the difficulty of speaking first when it was his company who offered the first words.

"Well, Sunstreaker, it's very nice to finally meet you," said the femme, extending her hand to touch his in greeting. Sunstreaker managed the standard greeting without embarrassing himself, although his pincer did noticeably shake when he held it out. Had he even been half this nervous meeting Optimus Prime?

"I bet you're wondering why I'm here," Elita intoned, her smile humoured… but a tad apologetic?

"Um… well, um… Yes, I guess so," Sunstreaker replied, squeaking a bit.

The femme nodded, and then sighed a little. "If you had received my messages, you wouldn't have to wonder, but as it appears that _someone_ forgot to send my messages-," and it was clear by Elita One's pointed stare in Megatron's direction who that someone might be, "-this is quite a surprise to you."

"I am the Lord Protector of an entire planet, femme. I am not your personal mail-bot," Megatron grumped from his secluded corner.

Elita put on a distinctly hassled look, her mouthplates turning down. "You simply won't admit that you have a horrible memory and forgot to send my message." She turned her gaze on Sunstreaker, a kind smile replacing her frown. "I am so sorry about this mix up. Here's the message that was supposed to be sent to you. This will clear everything up."

A data pad was placed on the table and slid toward Sunstreaker. He got up and walked the rest of the way to the pad. He skimmed through the content quickly, stunned further by what he read. His gaze flew up to Elita, then down the pad, then back up at her.

Under Sunstreaker's quizzical scrutiny, a crack finally came to Elita One's demeanour. She shifted in her seat, her smile edging with a subtle kind of nervousness. There was a subtle eagerness about her, politely hidden by a practised calmness.

"This is a resume," Sunstreaker said absently, hardly able to think of what that could mean.

Elita nodded, her nervousness becoming more pronounced. "Yes, it is."

"A resume for me?" he wondered.

"Yes," the femme nodded. "I hope you don't mind…"

"I don't mind," Sunstreaker replied automatically, his voice almost too faint to be heard.

"I meant to send that ahead so that you would be aware of my interest in mentoring you, but that didn't exactly pan out…"

"I hear that accusatory tone in your voice, femme," Megatron grunted.

"Mute it, Megatron. No one wants to hear it," Elita replied with a dismissive flick of her hand. Again she returned her attention to Sunstreaker. "You see, I wanted you aware of my intentions before I came here. This meeting is actually what I truly wanted to do. I find that meeting faceplate-to-faceplate works so much better to build up a rapport," said the femme.

"Yeah, definitetly," Sunstreaker replied, bobbing his head.

"Now, I realize that my main functions have been archiving and political administration, but as you can see on my resume, I have been trained as a painter as well," Elita said. "I've never mentored anyone before, but I am very interested in teaching you."

"Why?" Sunstreaker could hear himself asking.

"Because I would really love to mentor you, though I suppose that doesn't mean much..." She shook her head. "There are thousands of bots around the planet who would like to mentor you, of course. But I believe if I were to take on the responsibility, there would be a lot that we could learn from each other."

"I see…"

Elita seemed to interpret Sunstreaker's stunned response as mounting disinterest. She quickly bolstered herself and pulled a tablet from her subspace pocket. It was a surprisingly and enchantingly average tablet, the kind that you might find on sale at any basic art shop. She could have had the most expensive and fancy tablet available on the market, but the fact that she chose to work on the same kind that any other Cybertronian might work on said a lot about her. The tablet was beaten and worn around the edges, obviously well-loved by its owner. She quickly turned it on and accessed the portfolio she'd put together, sliding it next to the data pad for Sunstreaker to have a look at it.

"Here, just take a look at what I've done and you can decide for yourself," she said, then quickly added, "and please don't think that because I'm the Prime's sparkmate that you have to agree. If you already have a mentor in mind, then feel free to turn me down."

Curiously, Sunstreaker leaned over the tablet to view the first painting. Then he viewed the next. And the next. He suddenly felt very lightheaded and had to sit down. He dragged air through his vents, feeling the cool air rush through his innards and tickle him. She wasn't the very best artist he had ever seen. There were many who were better. But there was something about her work that was enchanting as Elita One herself was. Perhaps something about the colours or the lighting; maybe the brushstrokes or the subjects she painted… Whatever it was, Sunstreaker stared at Elita One's paintings and felt something stirring in him. His spark fluttered in a way that it hadn't done since Kaon.

Slowly, Sunstreaker dragged his optics up to meet Elita One's gaze.

In that moment, he felt it.

_Connection_.

It was such an amazing feeling, he felt dizzy. He cleared his vents, moving unsteadily to his feet and stumbled forward. He finally came to stand before her when he was only a few paces away.

"You really want to be my mentor?" he asked.

"Oh yes, I would really like that," Elita replied, her head nodding along with the words.

Sunstreaker looked down at his feet, then back up at the femme. "I would really like it if I were your apprentice."

Elita's optics flashed wide in surprise, then she glowed with delight. "I'm so happy to hear that," she replied. Her hands came up, meaning to scoop Sunstreaker up, but she stopped short. A nervous laugh fluttered from her.

Reaching out, Sunstreaker placed his pincer on one of her hands. "It's okay," he assured, offering a shining smile. In a flash, he was scooped up and his forehead was affectionately rubbed to Elita's. He laughed, revelling in both the warm affections and the joy he found in being able to laugh again. A terrible weight had been lifted from him, all thanks to Elita One. He might very well love her for it.

Megatron gave a rumbling laugh from the background, his deep blue gaze sparkling. He knew how much getting the mentorship meant to Elita One. To be able to get the position… she'd be smiling for orns now.

Eventually, the new mentor and apprentice parted from each other. Sunstreaker was set back on the table, now giddy with happiness. He felt lighter than he had in orns. Free and warm and bubbly. _This_ was what he had been looking for. Connection. Feeling alive again.

Sideswipe, who had been eavesdropping in his own special twin-ish way, suddenly burst into the room. One look into his optics and it was obvious that Sunstreaker's joy had become his own. He had been given new life through his brother. He took one look at Sunstreaker and Elita One standing so close and his grin stretched impossibly wider.

"You're her apprentice now?" he exclaimed breathlessly.

All Sunstreaker could do was grin and nod in reply. His grin felt permanently plastered to his faceplate. It would probably never go away,

Sideswipe sent up a whoop of joy, punching the air excitedly.

In short order, the common room swelled with the rest of the troupe. They were eager to congratulate Sunstreaker on finally finding the mentor of his dreams. And many, many congratulations were given to Elita One. She was the one who was gaining the most talented little apprentice she would ever see. There would never be a little painter with the same spark as Sunstreaker.

With a celebration slowly coming together, Megatron took the moment to announce that he and Elita could not stay. Now that their meeting was over, there were several other appointments that Elita had to see to. Her disappointment was obvious, as was everyone else's. Even Megatron himself was reluctant to deliver the news.

The pair of bots were escorted to the door by a whole contingent of rainbow frames. Elita One and Sunstreaker exchanged kind brushes of their hands.

"There's a lot to prepare for now that you're coming to live with me. You'll have your own apartments, of course. I'll get together some supplies for you. I promise, this will be a wonderful apprenticeship," Elita said, looking delighted. "Will you be reformatting soon?"

Sunstreaker shrugged. "As soon as my director returns with my frame. That should be soon, since he said he wouldn't be gone longer than mid-season." Mid-season had never looked so far away.

Elita smiled. "Alright, I should have everything ready for you by then. When you're ready to reformat, just give me a call and I'll be here to pick you up." She gave him her personal communication codes.

"_Thank you." _

"Well, see you when I see you," Elita said lightly, turning and lightly tapping out the door. She was followed by Megatron, who did not deviate from his protective duties even as he teased her playfully.

The door closed, and an overwhelmed silenced filled the hall. It filled the whole coliseum.

"That was the most beautiful femme frame I have ever seen," Blindside suddenly said.

Thrillride, who sat perched on her comfortable seat on her mate's rollbar, sighed wistfully. "I would kill for a frame like that."

Sideswipe wandered to Sunstreaker's side, his hand taking up his brother's pincer and holding it tight. Their gazes met, and both their expressions were ridiculously dopey.

"Hey, Sunny?"

"Yeah?"

"Is it too late for me to be a painter, too?"


	23. Chapter 15

Hey everybody. ^_^ Yeah, this is another quick update… I've just been so inspired by this story lately that I've been writing it non-stop. There's so much to be said about the twins and not enough time to say it! XD

**Faecat- **Liked the little look at Megatron, did you? Writing him as a good guy is ridiculously fun~ If you liked him, and how he interacted with Elita One, then you'll love future chapters. Into the far future, we'll also see hints of how and when he undergoes the change that tears Cybertron apart… I'm glad you liked Elita One's portrayal, as well. I've been waiting forever to introduce her. Since she's so beautiful and enjoys such a power position in society, I wanted to give her a down-to-Cybertron personality, give her quirks, and let her be a normal(ish) bot. ^_^ As for Sideswipe… yep, he's got a bit of lush in him. ^_^;

**Femme4prime- **There _had_ to be a little bit of light in the darkness, my dear! The real darkness doesn't come until much later… Heh, I'm happy you got a kick out of Sunny and Side's crazy antics in the chapter. They're a crazy pair, I gotta tell you. =P

**GemDragon22- **Sunstreaker certainly does get the mentor of his dreams. He's going to be in for quite the adventure when he really does go off with Elita One. =P As for how he and Sideswipe will handle being separated, I can't say anything now. You'll just have to stay tuned to find out. =P

**DitzyMusicLover- **I'm happy that you thought that chapter was cute; I was definitely going for a cute chapter with Elita One in it. ^_^ As for how/if the twins will be separated to go their separate ways, you'll see. =P

**Animelover1993- **Haha, don't just limit yourself to that chapter, my dear. There could be plenty of great chapters coming in the future. =P There's going to be a lot for the twins to be happy about in the near future, although the farther-off future is going to be a little darker… I hope you continue to like the story. ^_^

**Sinead Rivka- **Haha, I'm always happy to hear that readers can become re-addicted to one of my stories. ^_^ _Surface of the Sun_ is a special story in the _War Eternal_ universe because it enables me to show what life was like before the war and introduce important bots as they were before they became hardened warriors. ^_^ The rollercoaster of emotion in _Surface of the Sun_ is just a bonus. XD

**SavvyEnigmaxBanditgal- **lol~ Elita One does deserve cheering for, doesn't she? =P

**Yoong- **Oh yes, the twins are going to be living apart very soon… It'll just be another trial that they'll have to figure out. It's not like they're going to be alone, even when they're living apart. Sunny will have Elita and all the crazy bots she's surrounded with, and Sideswipe will have his crazy family. =P

**TransformersLover95- **Awwww, that's very sweet of you~ I'm happy that you enjoy the writing so much that it inspires love. ^_^

**Bluebird Soaring- **Elita One and (young) Sunstreaker are a good match together, but you forget all the other crazy bots he'll have around him- Ironhide, Chromia, Megatron, even Optimus Prime. Sunny's about to learn that just because someone's high-class doesn't mean they're that mature when the public's not looking. =P

**Daklog73- **lol~ Elita One is going to be a very interesting mentor for Sunny, I can tell you that much. =P It's wonderful that you enjoy the match-up between them. It was fate, I swear. =P

**Bumblebee's Girl- **I'm glad that you like that story thus far~ It's been a really fun adventure writing the twins' lives. ^_^ There's a little bit more happiness in store for the twins before their eminent future gets in the way… When their future does come, I'm not sure if anyone will be able to help them. O_o

**SEZwho94- **lol~ I didn't so much "up" Elita One's beauty as write her as I envision her, and I really do see her as a beautiful femme at this point in the _War Eternal_ series (later on, in other stories, she becomes a hardened warrior). You're in luck if you want to see Sunny reformatted; it's happening in this chapter. =P

Read, Review, & Enjoy~*

**Chapter 15**

The orn that Flip returned to the coliseum, he did so in a manner true to Sideswipe's prediction many orns before.

Roughly mid-season, on a morning that had barely risen beyond a cold dawn, Flip could be found sitting in the main energon-dispensation room. He came without ceremony. Without noise. In fact, he was such an unextraordinary presence that it took several breems for the groggy bots wandering in to realize that Flip was there at all. The old bot looked perfectly at ease sitting at the table, reading the news as he normally did every morning. There was nothing changed about him except for a dustiness about his frame from either disuse or abuse, and a weariness in his optics that could be dismissed as exhaustion.

Upon realizing that their director had finally returned, several happy exclamations rang off the walls. All stuntbots present in the room came forward to express their joy to have their family whole again. The show season simply wasn't the same without their director being the ringmaster of the whole affair.

Flip accepted the warm welcomes with a distant air, typical of his ways. He'd never been an excitable bot like the rest of the troupe. He touched hands with everyone who offered and exchanged a few words with certain bots. He made sure to nod to everyone, and specifically made a comment to Flashdance that he was looking worn down, a poor representation of a performer. Flashdance did not take the critique well.

After Flashdance was helpfully escorted from the room by Flicker, Flip turned his attentions to the twins. He met Sideswipe's gaze first, matching it for a brief moment. Many things went unsaid between the two in the astrosecond that their stares lingered. Sideswipe heaved a heavy sigh, releasing a weight from his shoulders that Sunstreaker had not known he'd been carrying. A welcoming smile crept onto the youngling's faceplate, returned by a half-smile on Flip's. With that exchange seen to, Flip turned to regard Sunstreaker and said, "Congratulations on your apprenticeship."

Sunstreaker beamed proudly. "Thanks!" Then he tipped his head. "How did you hear about it? Nothing's been announced yet."

The old director shrugged. "It was written all over your faceplate."

Sunstreaker beamed again, laughing. "Yeah, well, I can't help that. I can leave for my apprenticeship as soon as I reformat so…"

"So?" Flip repeated mildly.

"Where are our frames?" Sideswipe demanded, suddenly bursting at the seams when it finally occurred to him that Flip's return meant the coming of his frame.

"Ah, those," Flip said lightly, as if he had forgotten. He tilted his head and made a show of thinking about the matter. "Hmmmm, your frames… your frames…"

The other bots in the room chuckled, watching as the twins became increasingly anxious the longer they were left hanging.

"_Flip,"_ Sideswipe whined.

The director snapped his fingers. "Ah, yes, your frames, now I remember…"

"Where are they?" Sunstreaker pressed.

"They should be arriving right about…" he checked the time, then smiled, "_now_."

The ringer for the public front door buzzed through the building, several times louder than the ringer for the visitor's door.

"Yep, there they are. I should go answer the door," said Flip, groaning as he got to his feet and began to shuffle away.

With one wild glance to each other, the twins shot off like two streaks of lightning, racing for the front door. Throughout the coliseum, the buzzer rang nonstop, as if the bot pushing the button was not bothering to lift his finger. As they neared the door, they could also hear someone on the other side grouching through the solid slab of metal.

"_Hello? Hello? Is this buzzer working?" _The buzzer went off several more times. _"I don't have all orn to be standing out here. It looks like its going to rain. I hate sulphuric downpours." _

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe hit the door at the same time. Hit it _literally_. Each youngling slammed faceplate first into it when they realized they were running too fast and didn't have enough time to brake. The twin bangs were loud enough to resonate through the door.

"_What was that?"_ came the same crotchety voice. _"I hear you on the other side! Open up! I don't have time for silly games!"_

Flip was suddenly there, creaking as he reached for the control panel. "For someone as long lived as you, dear friend, I would think you would have learned some patience."

The door groaned open, only to reveal a tall, thin mech whose back was hunched over from age and leaning on a stylized cane. He was painted in an unattractive mauve colour, accented by deeper shades of violet and indigo. The faceplate of the mech was downturned, as if his faceplate had been built scowling. Had his frame been several eons younger, it would have been the epitome of an Alta Trius design, complete with the classical tri-horn design for the cranial crests. However, this bot was now old and appeared several times grumpier for it.

"I am as patient as the next bot," said the strange mech, his pale gaze settling on Flip. "You seem to bring the worst out in me."

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker blinked up at the newcomer with a mixture of apprehension, horror, and morbid curiosity.

Flip glanced down at the twins. "My dears, this is Alpha… ah, um, well, this is A3, the engineer friend I mentioned."

A3 sniffed, staring down at the twins. "So that's them, huh?"

Flip nodded proudly. "Yes, these are the twins. The red one is Sideswipe and the brown one is Sunstreaker."

The engineer squinted at the twins, staring so hard it was like he could see right into the frames and see exactly what made them tick. Finally, A3 said, "I've heard a lot about you from him," and jerked his head toward Flip. By his tone, A3 sounded as if he had heard a little too much about the twins for his own liking.

"Do you have our frames?" Sideswipe wondered, straining to see out the door in hopes of catching sight of something out there.

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't," replied A3. He stepped aside so the wide front doors were open, then he waved to someone out there. "Bolt, if you please."

There came a long, rumbling grumble, then a groan, and suddenly a boldly yellow alt mode came chugging into view. It was a heavy-set form, its strength clear. A trailer was hooked up behind it, and behind that was another trailer.

"Be careful with those," A3 warned grumpily, watching the trailers' progress as they shuddered along behind the tank-like Cybertronian pulling them. "One scratch and I'll be very upset."

"_Primus forbid,"_ Flip drawled, making the twins giggle.

"Where would you like 'em, Flip?" asked Bolt the rumbling tank. He was a complete contrast to A3, sounding mild and pleasant.

"Put them in the main arena, Bolt," said Flip. He spoke in familiar tones with the tank, much as he did with A3; they must have all known each other from some place or other. The director turned and spied Flicker lurking nearby, trying to look inconspicuous as he eavesdropped, just like the half dozen other bots wandering the hallway. "Flicker, please show Bolt way." His gaze then switched to Flashdance moping close by. "Flashdance, contact the local informational hubs and announce that our shows for the next couple of orns are cancelled. Something much more important has come up."

For once, Flashdance didn't complain or drag his feet. He sent the twins an excited grin and gave them a thumbs-up before trotting off.

Flicker groaned and stretched as he pushed away from the wall. "Alright, Bolt, you can follow me." He went off in the right director and let the tank follow him. One trailer after another followed, though the strange thing was that _three_ trailers could be counted instead of just two.

"What's in the third trailer?" Sunstreaker wondered quizzically.

"A request for myself," Flip informed, clasping A3 on the shoulder. "Thank you kindly for bringing it." His gaze then switched back to the twins with an arched look. "If you two wanted to keep your new frames a surprise for everyone, you might want to go protect them. My guess is that the whole troupe is descending on those trailers right now."

With twin squeals, the twins ran off to protect their future frames from the greedy hands of their family.

* * *

Much to the twins' horror and consternation, when Ratchet was prevailed upon to perform their reformatting, his arrival had to be postponed for a few orns due to an accident between Wheeljack and several flammable liquids. The time in between nearly drove the twins to insanity. Their mental condition was not helped by the near-constant teasing they received from the troupe as the adults playfully schemed to spy on the new frames before they were ready to be unveiled. It eventually amounted to the twins barricading the arena so that no one could get in without their knowing. Their frames lay safe and locked away in their travelling trailers.

Elita One was contacted and informed that she could come pick Sunstreaker up the morning after his reformatting.

Jetfire of the Research Core had been informed of the impending reformatting, but as much as he wished to be present for the momentous occasion, he was prevented from coming due to an apparent scheduling issue in Iacon. By 'scheduling issue', he meant the Head Advisor of the Research Core, a Seeker called Starscream, had neglected to set aside time to lecture at a conference in Simfur. The responsibility of the lecture now fell to Jetfire. He was terribly sorry to be missing the twins' reformatting, but did send along his congratulations.

Upon the cusp of the twins' breaking sanity, Ratchet finally arrived. He was alone, his alt mode laden by appropriate equipment for a reformatting. He was guided to the arena and left to do the prep work necessary for proper procedures. Entrance to the arena continued to be barred to the majority of the troupe, save for Flip. He stayed out of the way as he chatted mildly with Bolt and A3. The three of them indulged in a cube of high-grade Flip had hidden away from special occasions.

Two sturdy berths were set up and Sunstreaker and Sideswipe's future frames were placed upon them. The protective tarps wrapped around them were untied and packed back into the trailers. Ratchet took one look at the frames and arched his optic ridges, his gaze travelling to the living twins. "These are stunning designs."

A3 looked up immediately. "Thank you, I built them myself."

Sunstreaker wrinkled his olfactory sensor. "I designed mine myself… with a little help from Tracks."

"I did nothing at all," Sideswipe announced proudly.

Ratchet rolled his optics and returned to his task of prepping the frames. He opened the chests to see if everything was in order, inspected the sparkcases to make sure there was no dust in them, then briefly opened the heads to take a peek at the processors. Everything looked like it was in order.

As soon as they knew their frames pasted muster, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe demanded to be set with their frames so they could take their time to admire and fawn. Ratchet acquiesced with a half-smile. He had reformatted many younglings before and could not refuse such a common request. All little younglings wanted to sit with their new frames for a little bit. When younglings were finally faced with their new frames, it always took a moment for reality to set in. The frames they had come online with would no longer be the frames they lived in. Depending on their new frame, they would be bigger. Taller. Stronger. Faster. Everything that had once been off-limits to them was about to be open. Their worlds would change completely.

Sunstreaker sat in reverent silence as he stood next to his future frame. It was more beautiful in real life than it had ever been on the screen of him tablet. He walked around the berth slowly, taking in every little detail. He wasn't very tall, a bit shorter than Sideswipe's frame; Sideswipe's height was typical of an average mech frame, whereas Sunstreaker stood in the grey area between mech and minibot. He was lithe, his plating looking liquid as it wrapped lovingly around his frame. His paint was a golden-cream colour that glowed enchantingly under the lights.

"I'm so beautiful," murmured the youngling as he traced the long, dextrous fingers of one limp hand. In a few moments, that was going to be his hand. He would be able to move those fingers.

He dared to look up into the faceplate and felt his spark flutter. The faceplate was… it was more handsome than he ever could have dreamed possible. Even though the optics were dark and the mouthplates were immobile, every feature on the faceplate was immaculate. Almond-shaped optics, a sharp olfactory sensor, and intricate, expressive mouthplates; the crowning glory had to be the fins, though. Gorgeous fins that stood out from either side of his head, their edges sharp and optic-catching. Just looking at himself made Sunstreaker's spark ache. He tingled all over. He wanted to cry.

After living in his little brown frame for so long, of never feeling quite as handsome as everyone else, of being awkward and uncomfortable and unworthy, he was finally going to be _beautiful_.

He turned his eager gaze to Flip and A3. _"Thank you,"_ he said, investing as much of his spark as he could into those two words.

For the first time since Sunstreaker had met him, A3 cracked a rusty smile and nodded. "Enjoy that frame for as long as you can, youngling. You deserve it."

Sideswipe looked up from fawning over his own frame. "I'm going to look so awesome when I'm performing!"

Unlike his current frame, his new one was not solid red. The majority of him did happen to be red, but cutting sharply through the backdrop was bright streaks of lightning. He looked like a living storm cast on a red sky. The build of his frame was a little sturdier than Sunstreaker's; he needed the extra strength for performing, but he was still flexible and fast. Like all stuntbots, he was typically handsome with long limbs, a symmetrical frame, and a faceplate designed to catch an audience's attention. The only difference between his frame and the rest of the troupe's was that he didn't have any of the extra lights or frills flapping from him. He'd get those mods later, as soon as he learned to use his new frame as it was.

Ratchet finally finished setting up the rest of the equipment he needed. "Alright," he announced. "Ready to reformat?"

"Yes!" both twins cheered.

Ratchet laughed, plucking them both up and guiding them to a separate berth. He laid them down, arranging him as he saw fit. There were two identical machines step up near by, one for each twin. From each machine, Ratchet pulled out a long, thin cord and inserted it into open panels in the sides of Sunstreaker and Sideswipe's heads. From the other side of the machine, he pulled out identical cords and attached them to the open panels on the heads of the empty frames.

"This machine is going to take all the information in your CPUs and transfer it all to your new frames," Ratchet explained. "In order to do that, you're going to have to shut yourselves down. Not just recharging, but a special shut down program that you'll find in your directory."

"Where?" Sunstreaker asked, already eagerly scrolling through his directory.

"Go into you Operational files," Ratchet instructed. "In there, you're going to see a whole bunch of different operation commands for your frame. Since you're younglings, you'll only have access to a few of the operations. Find the one called 'Full Systems Shut Down'."

"It's password protected," Sideswipe said, sounding worried. He'd never really had the urge to look into his Operational files before. They had always just been there, existing in the back of his mind without ever needing a second thought. It was amazing now to realize that there was so much about the operation of his own processor that he didn't know. He didn't even know there were things in his head password protected from himself.

"Don't worry, I have the passwords for you both," Ratchet assured. "There have to be passwords on the full system shut down command so that you don't accidentally turn yourselves off. When you enter your passwords, there will be a secondary screen that will ask you if you are shutting down for reformatting or medical maintenance. Select reformatting and then press 'okay'. Another screen will pop up to ask if you are sure: select yes. As soon as you do that, your frame and CPU will start shutting down. It will feel weird when it happens- your frame will get heavy and you'll feel like you're falling into recharge. As soon as you're fully down, I will turn these machines on," he patted the machines they were hooked up to, "and your processors will begin to be transferred."

"What about our sparks?" Sunstreaker wondered, raising a hand to his chassis where his spark fluttered nervously.

Ratchet smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry about your sparks- that's actually the easy part. As soon as your minds are in your new frames, I will open up your sparkcases, pick up your sparks, and put them in their new homes. Since you're going from small frames into big ones instead of the other way around, we don't need to put your sparks through a compression cycle. You'll be able to slide right in and your sparks will know exactly what to do as soon as they're in their new cases. When you come online again, you'll be in your new frames."

The twins glanced at each other and grinned excitedly.

"Just be aware that you might be a little disoriented at first," Ratchet warned. "If you feel the need to purge, do it. You have nothing in your tanks right now, so you won't make a mess. There will be a lot of start-up systems commands that come up when you first come online- it'll be a bit overwhelming, but I'll walk you through them all."

"Will we be able to transform?" Sideswipe asked eagerly.

Ratchet laughed, as did Flip as his friends from the sidelines.

"Yes, of course," the medic replied. "You'll be able to do all the things a regular transformer can do. Just don't try to do them all at once."

"What are the passwords?" Sunstreaker asked, wanting so badly to be reformatted already that he could taste the need.

"Your own designations are the passwords for the Full Systems Shut-down," Ratchet informed.

Sunstreaker instantly input his designation. He selected reformatting on the screen that popped up and then pressed okay; the screen asking if he was sure came up so he selected 'yes'. An astrosecond passed with nothing happening, then the screens flickered and disappeared, leaving Sunstreaker's vision returned to what it normally was. All of the little scrolls, bars, and flashing icons that were always superimposed over his vision flickered for a moment, then those disappeared too. An involuntary whoosh of air rushed out all of his vents. He could feel his frame shutting down system by system; his limbs got heavy, his vision dimmed. It was similar to going into recharge, but deeper. For a moment, he reached out to Sideswipe and felt the same thing happening to him. Together, they continued to sink into the shut-down until everything went dark.

"Are they out?" Flip wondered, watching Ratchet as he hovered above the twins.

"Yep, fully shut down," replied the medic, flicking on the machines to transfer their CPUs. It would take a couple breems, so he wandered over to the other bots to chat. He held his hand out for Bolt to greet him. "We haven't been formally introduced yet- I'm Ratchet, the Head Medic at the Youth Sector."

"Bolt… and I don't have a fancy title," said the giant, brushing his hand with Ratchet's.

Ratchet laughed and offered his hand to the other mech with the tri-horn design.

A3 extended his hand and brushed the medic's. "I am called A3, an engineer from Alta Trius."

"A3?" Ratchet repeated, curious of the designation. Something about it was familiar in an odd sort of way; it wasn't a common designation. In fact, now that he thought about it, the only A3 he knew of was rather an infamous urban legend. Engineers, and to a lesser degree medics, knew the designation because it was the one carried by a mech who was said to build the Lord Protector and Prime frames; the mech supposedly came out of nowhere, did his job, and went back into oblivion until the next time his services were needed.

A3 interpreted Ratchet's stunned expression correctly, a half-smile curling his mouthplates. "Yes, _that_ A3," he intoned. "I'm not much of an urban legend, as you can see, but I do like my privacy."

"It's- um, it's an honour to meet you," Ratchet said. He was clearly flustered to be meeting a living legend. Wheeljack was going to pop a bolt when he found out what he missed when he turned down coming to the coliseum.

Flip chuckled lowly. "I've known A3 for a very long time; he built the twins' frames as a favour for me."

"You didn't give me much of a choice, dear friend," A3 grumped, causing Bolt to laugh into his energon.

Ratchet whistled. "Having someone as renowned as you building the twins' frames… I never would have thought it. Honestly, I thought it was going to be Wheeljack, the engineer at the Youth Sector here, who was going to be building them."

"The twins are special," Flip replied. "They required something a little more than the usual affair for such an occasion."

The medic glanced back to the little frames lying motionless on the berth. His mouthplates quirked up. "You're right, they are a special pair." Never in all his life had he ever met a pair of young ones with such a propensity for causing mischief. "I can only imagine what sorts of things they're going to do when they're older."

Flip and his friends exchanged pointed looks, then they all shrugged.

"Only time will tell," said Flip.

From the arena came a muted bleep.

"That would be their processors," Ratchet said. He turned on his heel and headed back to the makeshift medical area. There were some medics who might frown on performing any kind of procedure out in the open of an unsterilized place like an arena, but Ratchet was unworried. This was only a reformatting. Sparks couldn't pick up contaminants like energon could, seeing as they were purely made of energy. The chances of infection were less than zero. If he were performing an open energon-pump surgery, he might be a little bit more strict about the conditions, but for this? _Nah_.

He gave the little frames a brief scan, then scanned the big frames. Everything was in order. In quick succession, he opened the sparkcases of both little twins. Flip and the others politely looked away as soon as the glow of the sparks appeared. To be able to gaze upon another transformer's spark was the most intimate gesture any two bots could ever participate in. Ratchet did not look away. As a medic, he had gazed upon his fair share of sparks. In his fair opinion, he had never seen a spark quite like Sunstreaker's before. Not that the mere fact the existence of Sideswipe and Sunstreaker's sparks wasn't amazing enough, but Sunstreaker's spark was unusually bright. It looked exactly like a miniature white star.

Staring down at their two sparks, Ratchet knew these two little younglings were destined for great things.

Carefully, he cupped Sideswipe's frame first, tilting the chest forward so the spark would float out. It was a tingling electric feeling that tickled his palm as he turned and made his way to the proper frame. Easily as you please, the spark slid into its new home. Little flickers of energy shimmered around it as it started to connect to the systems of the new frame.

With the first one done, Ratchet repeated the process for Sunstreaker. When it came time for the spark to slide home, it jumped from Ratchet palm and hit home eagerly. Obviously there was a big part of Sunstreaker that wanted to be in the new frame.

Their sparkcases and chests hissed closed. For a breem, there was nothing but quiet. It took a little time for a spark to connect to all the right systems in the sparkcase; some sparks were fast, some were slow. Generally, the intelligence of the bot reflected on how fast their spark figured things out. Luckily, the twins were relatively bright, discounting Sideswipe's frequent bouts of stupidity; it didn't take long for their sparks to connect to their frames. A gentle hum came into the air as the frames started to come online for the first time. Vents shuddered as they began to cycle air for the first time. Limbs twitched. Fingers wiggled. Two pairs of optics lit up.

Ratchet leaned over the nearest twin and smiled. "How do you feel?"

"I feel different," Sideswipe replied, then his hand shot to his throat. "My voice!" He'd been expecting his regular squeaking youngling voice, but what he heard had been a much deeper sound. It was the sound of his _new_ vocal processor. He dropped his hand and grinned sheepishly up at Ratchet. "Sorry. I scared myself there. I wasn't expecting my voice to sound so… deep."

"That's just the frame's default vocal setting. If you don't like the sound of it, you can change it," Ratchet said reassuringly as he helped the newly reformatted mech to sit up.

"This feels so weird," Sunstreaker groaned, trying to sit up on his own. He felt too tall, and his limbs were too long, and the world looked way too bright and colourful now. He put a hand to the side of his head and flopped back down on his berth.

"Give it a moment- you'll adapt," Ratchet said. "If you have to purge, just let yourself do it. The next reformat you have won't be so bad. Your first reformat is always the worst one."

With a grimace, Sunstreaker turned to the side and heaved. With nothing in his tanks, nothing came up to spatter on the floor. The action made him feel better, though. After that, he was able to sit up and begin examining his new frame. Golden-cream plating glowed richly under the lights. His hands were a great fascination to him, since this was the first time he had fingers instead on pincers. The long, dextrous digits danced in front of his optics, enchanting him. Everything about his frame looked more beautiful now that he was living inside it.

The start-up screens that Ratchet had warned of earlier started popping up within the breem. They asked for corrections in the directory to make up for designation, status, and function changes; passwords for specific operations; adjusting sensory sensitivity to acceptable comfort levels… And following that were instructions to drink energon as soon as possible to top up energy reserves and to register the new frames with the nearest Council representative in the territory-of-residence whenever it was convenient. Ratchet steadily walked them through all the proper procedures until finally they were ready to give their frames a test run.

Flip, A3, and Bolt came down from their seats to observe the scene with interest.

Sideswipe was the first to stand up, watching himself move with great interest. He moved his arms, bent his legs, twisted around to test all of his flexibility. The frame was a bit stiff, but it was new. The stiffness would go away soon. It was strange to watch the alien limbs move when he was so used to his little frame. He turned around and spied his little frame, walking over to it. It was so _tiny!_ He didn't feel that small when he'd been living in that frame. It was so odd to be looking down at himself like that.

"You can choose what you want to do with your old frames," Ratchet instructed as he began to break down his equipment and clean up the scene. "You can either donate them to the Youth Sector for a future sparkling to use, sell them to another couple who are looking to be approved for a spark, or you can have them broken down to recycle the parts."

Sideswipe's mouthplates quirked up as he turned his old frame over in his hands. "Might as well donate mine. Some sparkling is going to get it and feel awesome because it used to be the frame for one of the twins."

Sunstreaker came to examine his old frame, wrinkling his olfactory sensor as he looked down at the bot he used to be. That clunky shape and mottled brown paint… He shuddered. "Just break mine down for parts." He didn't ever want to be the bot again.

Ratchet nodded, not surprised by Sunstreaker's request at all.

"I think formal greetings are in order," Flip suddenly announced, motioning both newly-reformatted mechs to him. By formal greetings, Flip undoubtedly meant the silly tradition where everyone had to pretend they were meeting for the first time. It was supposed to represent that Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were new bots now, figuratively speaking. Since Sideswipe was the closest, Flip took up one of his hands and clasped it between both of his own.

"Let me be the first to welcome you to the Centaurie Tetrax Performance and Exhibition Circuit." He looked expectantly at Sideswipe to see if there was a new designation to call him by.

"Call me Sideswipe," laughed the mech.

Flip smiled, nodding. He released Sideswipe's hand and moved to Sunstreaker. Instead of clasping his hands, he held Sunstreaker's faceplate between his palms. "Just by looking at you, I know you're meant to do many things you never thought you could do," he said. "It's nice to meet you-."

"Sunstreaker," replied the golden mech, offering a sheepish smile.

Flip smiled again, shaking his head.

"You're not going to change your designations?" Ratchet wondered, arching an optic ridge.

"They're good designations," Sunstreaker shrugged.

"Why mess with a good thing?" Sideswipe laughed. He then looked down at himself curiously. "Hey, I haven't figured out how to transform yet- how do I do it?"

"Think about it," Ratchet replied.

"I am thinking about it, but I can't figure it out. That's why I'm asking," replied Sideswipe.

The medic rolled his optics. "No, I meant all you need to do is think about transforming and you'll do it. After your first transformation, it'll feel like second nature to you."

"Seriously?" Was it really that easy? All you had to do was think about transforming and… _"Whoa!"_ It was the weirdest sensation ever to feel his whole frame breaking apart and rearranging itself. He felt himself shrinking, spreading out along the floor. Legs and arms fused into his frame. His head folded inward. In a matter of astroseconds, he was in alt mode on the floor. "Okay, that was pretty cool!"

"Congratulations, you just transformed for the first time," Flip said, clapping lightly.

Sideswipe laughed, getting used to the feeling of being in alt mode. It felt natural to be like this; different, sure, but natural at the same time. He revved his engine loud and then shifted his weight on his wheels. For a moment, he didn't know how to move forward… but as soon as he started to think about moving, he started to roll. Then he stopped. He drove in a circle. When he came to a halt, he came to his feet again. His optics were bright as he looked to his brother. "You have got to try transforming. You've never felt anything like it, I swear."

Sunstreaker grinned eagerly, his framing breaking apart in a similar manner that Sideswipe's had. He reassembled in a new shape lower to the ground, forming a sleek alt mode. He, too, drove in a test circle, getting used to the idea of being able to change shape and drive around.

A3 watched them both with an approving optic. "Those are good quality frames. They won't be breaking apart any time soon. You'll never find frames built with better quality."

"I bet they'll be speedsters on the roads," Bolt chuckled.

"Just try not to get into any accidents," Ratchet warned. "I've seen way too many accidents where newly reformatted bots get wild on their first drives and they get into an accident and end up wrecking their frames. Don't let that happen to you."

Sunstreaker immediately transformed back to his bipedal mode, wrapping both arms around himself. "This frame is way too beautiful to mess with it."

There came a loud banging at the barricade doors.

"_Are you going to come out or what?"_ Flashdance yelled. _"We're dying from the anticipation!"_

"_Don't listen to him, dearsparks. You take all the time you need!" _Blindside shouted.

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker glanced to each other and grinned, simultaneously transforming and screeching off for the door. The barricades were thrown out of the way and the doors were wrenched open. The twins stood proud and tall in the doorway, letting the bright lights from the arena spill over them. From the gathered troupe in the hall, there came a collective intake of air. Some mouthplates dropped open in surprise.

"Oh my Primus," Thrillride breathed, one hand to her spark as she stared up at Sunstreaker's new frame.

Blindside blinked rapidly, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. "You look… you look…"

The twins looked at each other, puffing up in pride. They knew what they looked like- they looked _damn fine_. Sunstreaker, in particular, looked like a jewel. Being the centre of everyone's stunned and admiring stares, he had never felt more beautiful or like he belonged than in that very moment. He tugged his brother's hand, bowing to the gathered crowd. With a laugh, Sideswipe bowed as well.

"I'm Sunstreaker, and this is Sideswipe," said the golden mech. He shivered as he listened to the smooth, even pitch of his voice. It was the kind of voice that could entrance a listener. It sounded as handsome as he looked.

"It's nice to meet you," Blindside immediately replied, a bit breathless. His sentiment was followed by several others parroting his words. Immediately following that formality, their star-spangled creator broke rank and rushed for them. In the blink of an optic, he had them both gathered into a crushing hug. "I am so proud of you both! You look so wonderful!"

It was strange being nearly the same height as their creator. When they hugged him, their arms could almost go all the way around him. Sideswipe could stretch up and rub his forehead against Blindside's without any effort at all. The twins were smothered by their creator and listened as he cried out his pride and exclaimed over how beautiful they were. He loved their frames and was so happy they could get into frames they really liked.

Someone suddenly whacked Sideswipe on the head so hard the metal rang. His vision blurred and he clutched the plating desperately. "Ouch! Hey! Half-bit!" He danced around to kick his assailant, only to discover his firework-painted creator standing behind him, grinning broadly. It didn't feel right to try to kick Wildride, so Sideswipe was left clutching his head and one leg raised to strike. _"What was that for!"_

"To make sure your head is hard enough to stick around here," Wildride laughed. He grabbed Sideswipe around the shoulders and reeled him in for a smothering embrace. "Your head is definitely hard enough"

"You're a glitch!" Sideswipe squawked, flailing and laughing at the same time.

Wildride continued to drag him around in a headlock. "I am so proud of you, my special little bag of bolts! As of this orn, you're one of the big bots. I'm going to teach you everything I know!"

"Stop dragging me around, Wildride!" Sideswipe whined. "I'm gonna purge!"

Wildride released him, letting Sideswipe flop to the floor and clutch his head to make the world stop spinning. Everyone laughed and teased him. They weren't worried in the least. This kind of harassment was the exact same thing each of them went through on the orn they reformatted. The more harassment you got, the more you knew you were loved. It was all part of their special traditions. While he was down, Blaze came along and knelt by him.

"We're so very proud of you, Sideswipe," said the pyrotechnic director, then his gaze travelled to Sunstreaker. "You too, Sunny. We're so proud of you both."

"Thanks, Blaze. That really means a lot." He smiled brightly, soaking up the smiles and laughs and admiring stares being heaped on him.

Thrillride sighed wistfully, skimming the back of her hand over Sunstreaker's golden plating. "It seems like only yesterday you were a tiny little sparkling coming home for the first time," she said. "Now look at you. You're in your first adult frame, and you're so _beautiful_. I blinked and suddenly you're mature, and handsome, about to go out in the world…" she sniffed quietly, on the verge of crying. "I'm going to miss you so much."

"I'll visit, I promise." Sunstreaker bent down to embrace the femme. "This place will always be my home."

"What about me? Who's going to miss me?" Sideswipe whined, now being held tight in Blindside's embrace again.

"It'll be hard to miss you when you won't go away," Flicker teased.

Ratchet appeared in the arena doorway, his arms full of the supplies he had brought. He shuffled his way through the crowd as quickly as he could, smiling and nodding to bots as he passed, offering congratulations and such. Flip and his friends appeared next, watching the crowd benignly.

"Not to interrupt the festivities here, but don't you all have a party to get to at _Spinning Wheels_?" said the director, his voice carrying over the loud din.

"Your party! I completely forgot!" Blindside exclaimed. "Everyone's waiting for you there!"

"Pit yeah! We get a party!" Sideswipe exclaimed, running off down the hall. "Party! Party! Party!"

Several others followed him, their optics bright, laughter filling the air.

Sunstreaker set off at a much slower pace, passing Flashdance in the hall where the mech continued to stand in a stunned silence. He seemed to be entranced by Sunstreaker's new frame. Pausing mid-step, Sunstreaker turned to the dancer and offered a half-smile.

"I'm not such a monster anymore, am I?" he asked.

Flashdance blinked, then shook his head with a laugh. "Maybe you're just a different kind of monster now." He offered his arm, threading it through Sunstreaker's. "Come on, little brother, you don't want to be late for your own party, now do you?"

"I guess not." Looking back, Sunstreaker smiled for Flip. "Are you coming, too?"

The director shook his head. "I've been gone awhile, so there are things here that I have to take care of. You go on and have fun."

"I will," Sunstreaker replied, letting himself be led away to the awaiting party held just for him and Sideswipe.


	24. Chapter 16

Okay, so there's this huge snowstorm going on here right now (AGAIN!) and my night class got canceled tonight, so I'm posting this chapter instead. I hope you don't mind the (extra)early posting of this chapter. It's only a day or so ahead of schedule, but hopefully that won't affect anyone's love for the story or possible reviews that may come this way. =P

**Deathcomes4u**- I'm glad you liked the chapter. It was a lot of fun to write. ^_^ It's a real compliment that a reader is able to get a good sense of what thoughts and feelings are going on with the characters. It's good to hear that you felt that with Sunstreaker and Sideswipe.

**SavvyEnigma**- lol~ I accept my Oscar with grace. Thanks so much, but I'll spare the audience my acceptance speech. I'm happy that you liked the chapter enough to award me for it. ^_^

**1bloodtempest**- Haha, sorry about the quick updates disrupting your schedule, I just can't help myself. Nevertheless, I do look forward to all your reviews. They never cease to bring a smile to my face over how insightful they are; you have such a fascinating grasp of the _War Eternal_ stories and characters. I'm glad you got such a laugh out of the chapter; it was a lot of fun to write. Hopefully you'll get as much enjoyment out of future chapters as well~ Thanks so much for reading and reviewing~ You're a doll. ^_^

**Yami Dragoness of Dark**- Haha, yep, it's on to adult life for the twins. It's going to be a big change for Sunstreaker. For Sideswipe… not so much. He's still stuck with his crazy family. XD I wish I could tell you how the twins will handle their separation, but you'll just have to stay tuned to find out. =P Thanks so much for reading and reviewing, that means a lot. ^_^

**Animelover1993**- lol~ Yeah, the reformatting was a long time coming. ^_^; This is quite a slow-moving story, but so much happens in Sunny and Sides' lives that help to make them who they are that I can't possibly move any faster than I am. As for the future when they become gladiators… it will be a while yet before they step foot in Kaon again, but the events that bring them there are coming soon.

**Leonixon**- You got that right, my friend: it is party time for the twins! XD I don't want to give away too much, but Sunstreaker and Sideswipe are in for some _interesting_ times at their party! XD

**Sinead Rivka**- Awww, thank you so much~ That really means a lot that you appreciate the story on so many different levels. I can promise you that there will be a lot more in store for the twins and everyone around them for the future. =P

**NoctisStella20**- Hahaha, you might want to be careful with your words there, my friend. Sunstreaker is a little sensitive about his old looks, and he's about to get real sensitive about his current looks. =P Thanks so much for your kind words about the story; that really means a lot. Thank you so much for reviewing as well~ ^_^

**TransformersLover95**- Good to know that someone is appreciating the rapid update speed. ^_^ Only thing is, I'm running out steam for writing, so it might be a little while before another update. ^_^; Hopefully your faith in this story is well placed and it'll only get better. =P

**Faecat**- Just keep that monster line in mind for the future, will you? It might come in handy. =P If the last chapter had you grinning like a fool, this chapter is going to tickle you pink! Sunstreaker and Sideswipe get their party animals on! XD And as an aside, you're very astute about Flashdance's thoughts. Sunstreaker's frame took him by surprise, like it did everyone else. You might see a bit more on Flash's thoughts in this chapter. =P

**Doodlechick12**- I'm glad you like their new frames; they were such a delight to write about. Thank you for reviewing~ You're a dear. ^_^

**SEZwho94**- lol~ Sunstreaker's extreme vanity was a long time coming. =P I'm glad you liked the chapter. Thank you for reviewing. ^_^

**Ladyofthedrgns**- I can't say anything about the third trailer just yet, but I can tell you that Sideswipe and high-grade are a very… _interesting_ combination. XD

Shout out to **FunkyFish1991** for being an amazing friend. ^_^

Read, Review, & Enjoy~

**Chapter 16**

It was a media frenzy the moment the twins stepped outside the doors of the coliseum. A wall of flashing lights went off like a lightning storm followed closely by the thunder of media drones and reporters. Excited voices shouting a dozen different questions melded together into one great maelstrom of noise. Luckily, the twins had not been left to face the craze alone. Flicker and Blaze went first to cut them a path while the rest of them stuck close to make sure Sunstreaker and Sideswipe got through without accidentally being trampled.

"Where'd they all come from?" Sideswipe asked, having to shout over the noise.

"They've been camped out here for orns. Ever since word got out that you were reformatting," Wildride replied, flaring his metal frills to make a media drone back off when it came too close for his liking.

"This is a little over the top, don't you think?" Sunstreaker moderated, staring around at the crowd. "I mean, yeah, I understand we're _The Twins_ and everyone goes a little crazy over us, but really? All of these reporters? Shouldn't some of them be reporting on… I don't know, a robbery or a crash or something?"

"They're just excited. It's not every orn _The Twins_ do something life-changing like reformat," said Blindside, inching along at Sunstreaker's side. He kindly deflected some questions thrown his way, smiling for the reporters and offering them a _"no comment"_.

"Shouldn't we answer some of their questions, then? Wouldn't that make them go away?" Sunstreaker wondered.

"You could try, but it generally doesn't work that way," Wildride laughed, giving Sunstreaker's hand a squeeze. "They're like organics- if you give them a little bit of something, they'll always be demanding more."

"Oh." Sunstreaker pressed his mouthplates together.

"You can give proper interviews later when you're better adjusted," Blindside intoned. "For now, just let them get their fill of looking at you."

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe were all for letting the crowd admire them. They turned and posed a couple times, letting cameras capture them from all angles. When an eager hand was thrust out to brush against theirs, they were kind enough to brush that hand with their own. Even if they had wanted to answer any questions, they couldn't understand half the things being shouted.

The whole experience was dizzyingly novel. They had known for many vorns how wild Cybertron could get over them, but the wildness had been filtered through the protective bubble of their family and the walls of the coliseum. Now they stood in the eye of the storm and were nearly swept away by it all. There were so many excited faceplates watching them, optics bright and admiring. How great it was to actually be able to feel the unmitigated adoration of countless Cybertronians permeating the electric air! It was a bit of an addictive rush.

A reporter suddenly managed to stumble through the imperfect wall that the troupe created. A tide of bots jostled behind the lone reporter and threw him to the ground. Sunstreaker nearly walked right over him, but stopped just in time.

"Oh, here, let me help you up," said the golden mech, extending a hand.

"T-thank you," mumbled the bot, taking the offered hand and letting himself be hauled up. Sunstreaker saw the bot's shoulder, saw the telltale decal that marked him as an apprentice. The larger decal on his other shoulder proclaimed that he worked for the news hub _The Shout Out_. Poor thing had probably lost his mentor in the throbbing crowd. His rapidly blinking optics met Sunstreaker's and instantly his mouthplates dropped open. Sunstreaker recognized the look of awe, feeling flattered by it. He could really get used to feeling so wonderful all the time.

"You're welcome," Sunstreaker replied, smiling kindly. "Be more careful, 'kay? Someone could have stepped on you."

The apprentice reporter nodded his head vigorously. "Right, yeah, sorry… I was pushed. Everyone's just so excited, you know?" He babbled loudly, getting jostled along with Sunstreaker. He almost tripped again, but Sunstreaker grabbed him quick and righted him before he was trampled.

"I told you to be careful," Sunstreaker warned playfully.

"Oh, right, sorry. Really sorry." The jumpy little apprentice wrung his data pad between his hands nervously. "Um, Sunstreaker… do you think I could… may I ask a few questions?"

Either Sideswipe sensed his brother's distraction or else he noticed that Sunstreaker wasn't keeping up, but he suddenly stopped and looked around. Catching sight of his brother hanging back with a jittery looking reporter, he backtracked until he was side by side with them.

"Come on, bro, we got to get going," urged the red mech, nudging him playfully. "You want to party hardy at _Spinning Wheels_, don't you?"

"One astrosecond," insisted Sunstreaker. He turned back to the reporter. "Just one question, okay?" One question couldn't be that bad, and the little bot didn't seem like he would turn into some crazed demanding maniac.

"Okay," replied the apprentice reporter, looking overwhelmingly delighted.

All around them, the noise of excitement rose to a crescendo as dozens of other bots tried to have their questions answered. All the rest was ignored as the twins waited on the little apprentice. If it had been anyone else, they might have sent the bot on his way, but they couldn't bring themselves to be unkind to someone who was in the same boat as them. Just a little apprentice trying to learn his trade.

The apprentice fumbled through his list of questions, trying to find the best one to ask. "Um… well, how- how do you feel in your new frames?"

An easy question to answer.

"Amazing," Sideswipe laughed. "Better than we've ever felt."

Sunstreaker laughed, nodding along. "Yeah, it's like we're a whole new us."

Wildride came in and grabbed Sunstreaker by one of his fins and snagged Sideswipe by his audio. "Come on, slowpokes, you answered your one question." With no choice in the matter, the twins were guided away (forcibly) by their creator. They finally made it to the end of the gauntlet where the gates of the coliseum let out onto the sidewalk and transport ways. There were less bots out there, leaving the transport roads clear.

Seeing as this was their first time ever driving on their own, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe rolled up alongside one of the older stuntbots. They stuck close for the entire drive over to the Rio District where the _Spinning Wheels_ pleasure house awaited them. Even Sideswipe didn't dare creep any faster than the speed limit; he actually went slower than the limit and required nudging to keep up with everyone. No matter how easy it seemed to drive around when someone else was driving, driving on one's own was rather intimidating.

Thankfully, the whole troupe made it to _Spinning Wheels_ without great incident. Since their first drive happened to be a rather long one, both Sunstreaker and Sideswipe transformed to their bipedal modes and flopped onto the benches that littered the front yard of the pleasure house. Their fans whirred while their coolant cycled quickly, trying to cool their innards. Their axels ached. Some of their joints felt stiff from not being able to move them while driving. Since they didn't have a lot of energon inside them at the moment, the drive had been a strain on their limited energy reserves as well.

"I didn't think this place was so far away," Sunstreaker wheezed.

"You're not used to driving so far," Thrillride chuckled, patting the poor bot on the head. "The more you drive, the farther you'll be able to go."

"A little bit of high-grade will fix you right up," Wildride assured.

Sideswipe managed to bring his head up, spying the brightly painted banner strung across the entrance of the pleasure house. In bright rainbow glyphs were the words CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR REFORMATTING!

"Wow, you guys went all out, didn't you?" laughed the red mech.

"You deserve it," Blindside said warmly, taking one twin under the arms and lifting him to his feet. Wildride took the other. As a collective group, they stumbled to the entrance of the familiar pleasure house. Through the ground and vibrating through their feet was the throbbing bass rhythm of a party already in full swing.

Flashdance jigged ahead and swung the door open, "It's your party, so get in there!"

The twins were unceremoniously picked up and thrown into the writhing mass of electric colours and pounding music. A joyous roar rose up as many hands reached out and caught the frames that had been flung to their mercy. This wasn't like the crowd of reporters that had rabidly jostled against each other for the best view of the twins. This was a raucous, joy-filled, endless sea of partying bots looking for any excuse to have fun. The twins were tossed and churned on the tide of many hands. As they passed above the many heads of the crowd, familiar faceplates grinned up at them.

Sunstreaker eventually found his feet placed on the floor. He stretched up to see where his brother had been carried off to, but all he could see was a rainbow of writhing metal. His audios rang with the loud, throbbing music. The intense rhythms beckoned him to move, so he danced. Or… he _tried_ to dance. There wasn't a lot of room to get any serious groove on. Plus, he was still fairly new to his frame so his balance wasn't the greatest. Luckily, everyone around him seemed to understand, catching him when he stumbled, urging him on to dance with them. He laughed and let himself be swept away.

A flash of electric blue and neon green plating slithered into view.

Even without reading his spark signature, Sunstreaker knew him. _Flashdance_.

"Looking real good there, Sunny," said the dancer, shimmying around in time to the music.

"Dancing is harder than it looks," Sunstreaker replied sheepishly, thinking that he was being teased.

"Who says I was talking about your dancing?" Flashdance laughed, optics dancing up and down Sunstreaker's frame. He wrapped his arms around the smaller bot's neck and let their frames sway together. "I didn't think you'd… you know, turn out so good."

Sunstreaker rolled his optics, letting his arms come around Flashdance's middle. "Thanks for your confidence, Flash. It warms my spark, it really does."

"You're welcome," Flashdance replied. "I figured since it was your party, I'd be generous."

"Yeah, you're just oozing with that _generosity_ of yours," Sunstreaker drawled.

But Flashdance did turn out to be unusually generous. He took the time to teach Sunstreaker the proper way to rock out to the fast-paced wild rhythms blasting from the speakers. They let themselves get lost in the mindless indulgence. Swaying, weaving, twirling; they threw their arms in the air, jumped up and down, flashed their lights, and howled along with the music. Every once in a while, someone from the troupe would stumble into them and would dance with them for a little while before stumbling away again.

Eventually, the music changed to something slower. With a glance to each other, Flashdance and Sunstreaker moved to compensate. They shuffled closer. Flashdance was the taller of the two, so Sunstreaker leaned into him. They continued to sway to the slower tune. They were quiet for a little while; Flashdance appeared to be struggling with some internal issues and Sunstreaker didn't know what else to say. They danced until the end of the song came, and then they parted. Sunstreaker turned to disappear into the crowd, intent on looking for Sideswipe. It had been too long since he'd seen his other half, and now he was getting suspicious. A hand on his wrist stopped him from moving on. Flashdance stood there, watching him with a half-smile.

"You can interface for real now," said the mech. "If you wanted to, I could show you how it's done. There are private rooms upstairs… if, you know, you wanted to try interfacing sometime tonight."

It was not an offer Sunstreaker would have expected of Flashdance; it occurred to him that the dancer might be _attracted_ to his new frame. As flattering as that might be, Sunstreaker was not particularly inclined. "Maybe later," said the golden mech, squeezing the dancer's hand. "Right now, I just want to find Sideswipe."

Flashdance laughed, shrugging. The offer was worth a shot. He pointed to the far side of the room where the crowd was roaring with laughter. A bright red mech was dancing on the bar to the new fast tune that was pumping out the speakers. Somehow, Sideswipe's dancing made him look like he was having a full-frame seizure.

"There he is," said Flashdance. "…and that looks like Wildride."

Yes, it was. In a flash of bright plating, Wildride was on top of the bar with Sideswipe. Both of them started shimmying around, wiggling their afts and doing things just to make their audience laugh. To make matters worse, Skyfly, Clouddrift and several other aerials got up there with them, spinning and flipping around in the air. Under the bright flash of multicoloured light, their paintjobs turned garish and their movements comical. Such was the life of performers; even when they weren't on stage, they were always trying to entertain. Even the bot tending the bar was doubled over laughing.

Sunstreaker stared in horror. "Is it too late to say I don't know them?"

"You could try, but I'm not sure how convincing you'd be," Flashdance replied.

Sideswipe took one misstep and fell off the bar, squawking and flailing his arms as he fell. Thankfully, there were enough bots on the floor to catch him before he hurt himself.

Wildride shouted a loud _'WHOOP!'_ and flipped off the bar with a fancy twist. He regained his footing and smacked the bar top with his palm, shouting an exuberant order for a couple cubes of high-grade to be poured. An astrosecond later, two cubes were slid into the mech's hands. He lifted one to his mouthplates and chugged it back in one go. He slapped the other cube into Sideswipe's hands.

Sideswipe stared in surprise, having never expected a cube of high-grade to be thrust into his hands. It hadn't even occurred to him that he was allowed to drink high-grade now. He looked up at his creator, who gave him a double thumb's up with a big grin.

"_Seriously?"_ wondered the red bot, delighted and surprise.

"It's your party!" laughed his creator.

The crowd helpfully started chanting _"Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!"_

Sideswipe stared at the cube, the crowd, the cube, his creator, the cube again… and then he tilted his head back and began chugging the high-grade like his life depended on it. He got through half of it before he needed to cycle air through his vents. He could feel the burn of the high-grade simmering inside him straight down to his tanks. High-grade was different from plain energon. The energy content was more concentrated and more readily absorbed into the energy reserves. The feeling was electric, leaving a burn and twitch as it went down. Its taste was so much richer than plain energon.

"_Whoa,"_ Sideswipe breathed, weaving on his feet. Its effects were nearly immediate; he could see the metre for his energy reserves begin to climb on the scrollbar. The rush of excess energy made him dizzy and giddy. He didn't think high-grade worked _that_ fast, but apparently it did. Throughout the pleasure house, his designation continued to be cheered. Deciding to play into the crowd and not waste a single drop of high-grade, Sideswipe tilted back and finished off the cube. Dribbles of glowing energon ran down his front. Once the cube was empty, he slammed it down on the bar top and spun around to the crowd with his arms thrust in the air.

"Yeah! How's that? _How's that?_ Good enough for you?" Sideswipe yelled at the crowd.

A cheer reverberated through the pleasure house.

Blindside appeared next to Wildride, shaking his head. "You're going to get him over-energized."

"I'm making up for lost time. I never stuck around for my reformatting party, remember?"

"So you're living vicariously through your creation?"

"Something like that." Wildride wrapped an arm around his mate's shoulders and snuggled him close. "Besides, a little bit of high-grade never killed anyone."

Blindside opened his mouthplates to refute the statement, then sighed and shook his head. Instead of arguing, he turned to watch as his creation banged the bar top and shouted excitedly for another cube of high-grade, this time with a uranium twist. Sideswipe had always been the more outgoing of the twins. He was the one who was more likely to throw himself into something without thinking. The one that Blindside worried over the most, because he was the one most like Wildride

Thrillride spun around in the swivelling chair she was perched in, her faceplate looking impish in the light of the sparkling cube of high-grade she was drinking. On either side of her were several aerials sipping at their various strange concoctions of high-grade.

"I see that look on your faceplate, Blindside. Stop worrying so much," Thrillride drawled, patting the mech on the arm. "I do seem to recall you putting away a lot of energon at your party, and you turned out just fine."

Skyfly glanced up, offering a devilish smile. "I remember that night. Didn't you have to be _towed_ back to the coliseum?"

Blindside sputtered in embarrassment. "That was a long time ago. Bots kept shoving cubes into my hands!"

Wildride laughed loudly. "You were quite the wild thing."

Blindside sputtered. "That was pure stupidity of my youth!"

"And that's not?" Wildride asked, jerking his thumb towards Sideswipe.

"WOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Sideswipe howled, once again on top of the bar. His dancing was sloppier this time around as his energy levels went above what he could handle. His sensors were starting to malfunction, his balance disappearing, and his ability to make good decisions… well, that had never functioned right in the first place.

Sunstreaker shoved his way to the bar, having left Flashdance the moment he decided he was the only one with an ounce of sense among his family. He banged into bar as he finally broke through the wall of dancing bots.

"Sideswipe!" he yelled. "Damn it, Sideswipe, where are you!"

Trying to make it across the room was like trying to walk through _tar_. He could barely take one step before someone was suckering him into a dance. Since it was his party, he couldn't bring himself to be rude. He was forced to dance with everyone who stole him away until he could think of a polite enough reason to dismiss himself. With each diversion, he got a little more desperate to reach his brother.

"Sideswipe! You better not be embarrassing yourself!" _More than you already are!_

In the time it had taken Sunstreaker to cross the room, Sideswipe had thoroughly managed to embarrass himself. His tolerance for high-grade was _zero_. He'd drank so many cubes he could no longer stand up. His frame was stretched out along the bar top, surrounded by empty cubes. Bots were taking body-shots of high-grade off his frame while he sang some off-tune ditty that didn't even match the music playing.

Horrified and mortified, Sunstreaker spun around on his family, ready to launch a tirade on them for letting Sideswipe sink so low. He never got the chance to lash out at any of them, seeing as they had already disappeared into the crowd. How smart of them to save their own afts when Sunstreaker felt like spitting fire. Only Flicker and Blaze could be seen, sitting peacefully on the other side of the room. Sadly, they were too far away to bother yelling at.

Wanting to take his frustrations out on someone, Sunstreaker gave Sideswipe a good shove through their bond. The red mech yelped in surprise, jerking so suddenly that he rolled off the bar. No one suspected anything unusual about Sideswipe's sudden fall, so they took it all in humour. Their laughter was loud and abandoned.

Unable to take anymore of the show, Sunstreaker spun away. He clapped his hands over his faceplate, shaking his head in defeat.

Someone chuckled close to Sunstreaker's audio, a comforting hand patting his shoulder. "You know, it could always be worse."

A shiver coursed down Sunstreaker's back. He spun around to meet the bot who had spoken, scanning out of habit to find a spark signature. The room was too crowded and Sunny's scanners were a little hard to understand in his new frame to identify the new bot. The new bot was around average height for a mech, painted a light grey-blue colour; the frame itself was a handsome Crystal City design, sporting the decals of a Security Response officer.

"Hey there," said the bot, smiling happily.

"Um, hey," replied Sunstreaker unsurely. He couldn't remember if he knew the mech or not.

As their gazes met, the grey-blue bot smiled even wider. "Don't recognize me, do you?"

"Um…" Sunstreaker paused, once again looking the mech over. Crystal City bot… Security Response officer… _"Cerulean!"_

"Got it on the first guess!" laughed the mech.

Sunstreaker squealed excitedly. "I can't believe you're here! It's so good to see you!"

"It's so good to see you, too! But I'm not actually Cerulean anymore- I'm Bluestreak. I had to change it when I reformatted to be a full officer," replied Bluestreak, opening his arms to receive a tight hug as Sunstreaker jumped forward.

"Well I'm still Sunstreaker," laughed the golden mech, hugging his friend as tightly as he could.

When they finally parted, Bluestreak took a step back in order to look Sunstreaker up and down from head to foot. "Would you look at that frame? Primus, Sunstreaker, I've never seen anyone look more gorgeous! You're just… wow! I really mean it- _Wow_!" he said, clearly enamoured with what he saw. "Sideswipe, too, I suppose, but you… It's hard to believe that you were once in that little brown frame. I can hardly believe that's you! You look so amazing! That frame must have cost your troupe a fortune!"

Sunstreaker laughed, gripping Bluestreak's hands tightly. "You look amazing, too! I had no idea that you were finally certified as a full-fledged officer! Your new frame looks so great!"

"I was hoping to surprise you with it," Bluestreak replied cheekily.

"I'm definitely surprised," Sunstreaker replied. "I'm so happy that you could come to the party!" They ended up hugging again. "How did you get here?"

Bluestreak grinned. "Blindside contacted my precinct a few orns ago and said you two were finally reformatting. I couldn't miss that for the world, so I hopped the first transport here. It's so great to see you, Sunny."

"It's great to see you too, Blue," Sunstreaker gushed. His former frustration with his family was suddenly gone. He could hardly summon enough willpower to wipe the giddy grin from his faceplate.

Bluestreak peered around them to the pulsing crowd. "Do you, um… do you want to sit down and have a drink with me?" he asked, gesturing to the relatively calm area set up with tables and chairs.

"Sure, yeah, I'd love that," Sunstreaker immediately replied. They were quick to order cubes of energon from the bar; Bluestreak chose energon with a nitrogen fizz and Sunstreaker went with a simple hydrogen spritzer. Neither were inclined to start chugging high-grade any time soon. Together, they pushed their way through to a table near the wall, partially secluded from the craze of the dance floor. It wasn't quiet there, but it was certainly less crowded.

They sat down, giggling quietly. Both were a little flustered, having difficulty making optic contact with the other. Bluestreak kept looking down at his cube, sneaking glances at Sunstreaker whenever he thought he could get away with it. Sunstreaker turned sideways, keeping an optic on the dance floor so he could judge how badly his family was trying to humiliate themselves. Now he knew why Flip never bothered to come to parties like this. It wasn't because he had better things to do, it was because he didn't want to be seen with anyone related to him.

Bluestreak cleared his vents quietly, though the noise was lost over the noise of the music. He dug through his subspace pocket and brought out two small boxes. The movement caught Sunstreaker's attention and he looked down that the little packages, then up at his old friend.

"I… well, I bought you and Sideswipe presents," said Bluestreak, fidgeting a little. "I didn't know if it was Tetraxian tradition or not to give gifts, but I know it's Crystalline tradition to do it."

"Tetraxians only party," Sunstreaker replied with a sigh. No need to point out the obvious party raging around them.

"Yeah, well, I only got you small gifts, so it's not that bad," Bluestreak replied, looking flustered. "I didn't have a lot of time to pick out anything real special, and I don't actually get paid a lot for Security Response, so they're not that expensive either. But I hope you like them! I mean… well, it's okay if you don't like them, I could always send you something else, but I really, really hope you like this gift…"

"Whoa, Blue, you're talking a lot," Sunstreaker said, breaking the mech out of his habit. "Let me be the judge of whether your gift is good or not." He picked up the box with his designation scrawled across the top, tucking the one for Sideswipe away into subspace. Curious and excited, he lifted the lid and gasped when the lights caught on the ornaments, causing them to glow and glitter. _"They're beautiful."_

Bluestreak's faceplate lit up. "Really?"

"Yeah, really."

"I'm glad you like them!" gushed the Security Response officer.

"I _love_ them," Sunstreaker replied. With careful fingers, he lifted out one intricately carved, bejewelled magnetic ornament. It was made of gold and platinum strands weaved together into an artistic knot, and inset into the delicate knot and dripping from it were droplets of red, _red_ rubies. There were two ornaments like that, like twins. The sight of them made Sunstreaker's spark flutter. Immediately, he adhered one bejewelled decoration to one fin, sticking its twin to his other fin. When his head moved, he could catch the sparkling redness of the jewels dancing in the periphery.

"You look wonderful. Red is a really nice colour on you," Bluestreak murmured.

Sunstreaker's hand came across the small table to lay atop the blue-grey mech's. _"Thank you,"_ he said. "This is the best gift ever."

"You're welcome," Bluestreak twittered. "Crystal City is full of dangly jewels like that. I saw them on my way to the transport and I had to get them for you."

"I'm glad you did," Sunstreaker replied.

With their grins impossible to wipe off their faceplates, conversation came a lot more easily. Leaning over the table so that their heads nearly bumped, they ended up talking about anything and everything that came to mind. Sunstreaker almost, _almost_ ended up talking as much as Bluestreak.

As it turned out, Bluestreak was barely out of his apprenticeship. He'd only been reformatted in the last couple of orns. However, he _loved_ his function more than anything. Being a Security Response officer was everything he imagined it would be. Crystal City was amazing. It was a lot different from Centaurie Tetrax, though not in a bad way. The tourists could get a little annoying, but that was okay. His precinct was really nice, and his siblings there were more than happy to help him out whenever he needed a hand.

Sunstreaker… well, his life had mostly been the same as it had been since the last time he'd seen Blue. He talked about Sideswipe being a pain in the aft. Talked about his family being fragging insane. The season he'd spent in Kaon had been interesting, but he censured most of his adventures there for obvious reasons. Mostly he gushed about his knew frame, how amazing it was to be tall, to be beautiful, to be able to drive. He even exclaimed over how awesome it was to have fingers!

They chatted for so long that several joors passed before they realized that the party was passing them by.

Glancing around them, Sunstreaker blinked dazedly. "Wow, we've been talking for a long time."

"Yeah, we have," Bluestreak replied sheepishly.

Sunstreaker giggled quietly, tracing the rim of his empty energon cube. He glanced to the dance floor, then back to his friend. The pulsing music was once again tuning down to something slower. Bots were pairing off on the dance floor, and Sunstreaker liked the idea of it. "Do you want to dance with me?"

"I'd really like that," replied Bluestreak, perking up happily.

Instead of fighting for space on the dance floor, they merely stepped away from their table and swayed in a space cleared of chairs. Bluestreak was the taller of the two, so as their frames came close, he could bend his head to let it rest on top of Sunstreaker's. Sunstreaker let himself be held, enjoying how warm and comfortable Bluestreak's frame was. It was incredibly nice to be able to dance together, moving in time to the music and each other.

"So, um… I heard that you're going to be apprenticing with Elita One," Bluestreak murmured.

Sunstreaker nodded against Blue's blue-grey chest. "Yeah, I am."

"How'd you manage that?"

The golden mech giggled a little. "She just showed up out of nowhere, actually. I loved her paintings, and I really liked her, so I decided she was the one for me. For a while, I was worried that I'd be stuck with someone I didn't like."

"I'm happy you could find someone you liked to apprentice under," Bluestreak said, blowing a warm draft of air across the smaller mech. "You know, Elita One often comes to Crystal City for business. My precinct is usually the one that looks after security and stuff, so we might see each other if you go to Crystal City with her."

Sunstreaker leaned back to see a happy, cheeky sparkle in the other mech's optics. He grinned in return. "That would be really great if we could see each other. You could show me around the capitol, all the great secret places you know."

"There are plenty of secret places I'd love to show you," Bluestreak replied.

Their gazes met and they revved softly. It was comfortable being in each others' arms. The first slow dance ended, but another one came on its heels. Sunstreaker and Bluestreak were perfectly content to continue dancing with each other.

"I've been wondering…" Bluestreak suddenly intoned. "How are you and Sideswipe going to handle being separated? I mean, he's staying here and you're going with Elita One…"

Sunstreaker frowned, shrugging. "We'll just have to deal with it. We've been separated before, while the Research Core was trying to figure out our limits. They used to do a whole bunch of experiments like that."

Bluestreak made a face. "That doesn't sound fun."

"Nah, it's not really fun, but at least they helped us understand what we can and can't do," replied Sunstreaker. "Me and Sides are pretty much like sparkmates; we can handle being separated, but the degree of time and distance we're separated is something we have to adjust to."

"Are you nervous?"

Sunstreaker thought about it for a moment, and then shrugged. "Yeah, I guess, but I'm excited too. I've never really gone anywhere or done anything without Sideswipe. This'll be the first time it'll just be _me_ on my own."

"You'll do fine," Bluestreak said, running his long fingers down Sunstreaker's back. Sunstreaker let his arms tighten around his friend, drawing him close. He let his fingers slip beneath Blue's plating and tickle a neural wire, causing the mech to wiggle and twitter. Sunstreaker chuckled, laying his head against Bluestreak's chest to feel the pulse of energy vibrating beneath the metal. He was reminded of the last time they had been together before Bluestreak had gone off to Crystal City for his apprenticeship. They'd been close, like this. Closer, in fact. They'd interfaced with each other, touching each other's minds. They couldn't go very far interfacing because Sunstreaker had only been a youngling then. But they had made a promise to interface again when Sunstreaker was no longer a youngling. Sunstreaker most definitely was not a youngling anymore.

"Do you remember the last time we were together…?" he asked quietly, leaning back to see Bluestreak's optics.

For a moment, he looked puzzled, then it dawned on him. "Oh yeah… We promised to interface when you reformatted, didn't we?"

"Yeah."

"Do you… um, do you want to?" Bluestreak wondered, looking nervous and hopeful.

Sunstreaker stepped out of the grey-blue mech's embrace, entwining their fingers together. "Come on, there are rooms upstairs that are available."

"Are you sure?" Bluestreak stuttered.

"Yeah, I am," Sunstreaker laughed. "I trust you, Blue. If everyone else is allowed to go crazy tonight, I might as well go crazy with you."


	25. Chapter 17

My Spring Break starts tomorrow, so I decided to celebrate a little early by posting a chapter with some partying going on. It's a bit of a different kind of party than what Sideswipe was doing in the previous chapter, but I'm sure Sunstreaker and Bluestreak don't mind. As a matter of fact, I'm quite sure they enjoy themselves. =P Things do get intimate, but hopefully it's still within a T-rating range.

Shout out to **1bloodtempest** for reading this… forever ago. Quite a bit of things were tweaked since then, but you were a dear for reading nonetheless. Second shout out to **FunkyFish1991**. Been thinking of you lately, girl. Hope you're doing okay!

**Animelover1993**- lol~ Bluestreak deserves a lot of love. He's such a sweet mech! I couldn't resist bringing him back. (Since you love Blue so much, you may love this chapter a lot =P ) As for the twins- I do know them, sort of. They're all in my head, right? All the characters in _WE_, I literally know them from creation until death. It's wonderful to hear that that kind of intimacy comes out in the writing~

**TransformersLover95**- Haha, I'm glad that my stories are a good way for you to get through school. Writing the chapters is a good way to avoid actual work for me. =P

**1bloodtempest**- Yep, Sideswipe has almost zero tolerance for high-grade right now. I figured since it was his first time, he wouldn't automatically be a boozer. It takes time and repeated parties to get up the right tolerance! XD Haha, yeah, Sunny talked almost as much as Blue did. He had a lot to say! XD Blue isn't exactly related to Prowl in this series; Bluestreak is from Crystal City and his siblings are Teal, Azure, Lapis Lazuli, Aquamarine, and Ultramarine. Prowl is from Simfur. ^_^; lol~ I am happy to have given you a reason to grin at your laptop. Hopefully this chapter here gives you a reason to grin as well. =P

**Faecat**- There might never be enough, but at least I always more people will always come back for more! XD Glad you like that Blue/Sunny pairing, since I plan on going a few places with it. As for Sideswipe… yep, that is definitely the beginning of a very interesting trend for him. XD

**Ladyofthedrgns**- If there was such thing as a Keg Stand on Cybertron, I am pretty sure that Sideswipe would be doing that at every party he ended up at. XD As for Blue and Sunny, I am pretty sure there is going to be more than just sparks flying between them in this chapter. =P

**Femme4prime**- The twins may very well stay in the frames they have now.. or not. It's a personal choice, I suppose. Sunny is around 16/17 feet tall, and Sideswipe is actually 19 feet tall in their current frames, which is roughly within the average range for minibot/mech frames. ^_^ Hopefully Blue really will be the perfect "first" for Sunstreaker. =P

**SEZwho94**- Can't get rid of Bluestreak for that long! He's too sweet of a bot. ^_^

**Marsh Queen**- Thanks so much for your kind words. I'm glad that you enjoyed Sideswipe's antics. He's such a hoot to write for at this age. XD Glad you like the whole Sunny/Bluestreak thing. There will definitely be more where that came from in the future. =P

**Mr Awesome**- Haha, yeah, I think Wildride is definitely to blame for some of Sideswipe's drunkenness. XD As for Blue and Sunstreaker being a couple, I can say that there will be sparks between them. However, since this is a fic about the twins' lives that stretches over many years, I can't say what will become of Sunny and Blue later on.

**SailorMoon20114486**- Kids grow up so fast, don't they? You blink and *bang* they're adults getting wasted at parties. XD

**Daklog73**- I knew someone readers would get a kick out of Sideswipe being a wild drunk. XD The twins are the ultimate celebrities on Cybertron (and a bit like sideshow freaks), so they gather paparazzi wherever they go. They're basically second only to the Prime. XD It's little privacy, sure, but they're used to it. =P

**Lecidre**- Oh, my friend, you are quite right that Sunny is now able to do several things he wasn't able to do before. I definitely think he wants to do a few things with Blue. *giggles* As for Flash, you're right that Cybertronians aren't like humans and interfacing isn't like sex. Cybertronians don't have any biological relations to create incest taboos like here are on Earth, and familial connections are more of a fluid social construction rather than a rigid structure, so two bots can go from being friends, to lovers, to brothers and back again all within the span of a lifetime. The only major taboo on Cybertron concerns creations becoming intimate with their creators. ^_^; I was actually wondering if anyone was going to mention anything about the Flashdance/Sunny thing, so I'm really glad you asked. I intentionally put that scene in there to weird people out at the same time as show the flexible nature of Cybertronian society. =P

**XxBlackEaglexX**- I'm happy to hear that Sideswipe could entertain you so much. He's such a little imp to write for- even I don't know what he's going to get up to until I write it. XD It's quite a challenge to develop the twins personalities from their beginnings to who they become, so it's always amazing to hear that readers are liking their development. =) There's much more to come, so hopefully you'll continue to enjoy the twins' antics.

**LittleDragonOfTruth**- I'm happy to hear that you've been enjoying that fic thus far. ^_^ I'm not a big fan of sparkling/youngling fics either, so it was a huge leap for me to try writing this. I'm just happy that there are so many readers out there like you willing to give a fic like this a chance. ^_^ Hopefully you continue to enjoy this into the future. =)

Read, Review, and Enjoy~!

**Chapter 17**

Flicker sat comfortably at a specialized table for bots his size. He liked dancing, but in places like pleasure houses where the chances of stepping on someone were high, he preferred to stay out of the way. Since Blaze was a bigger bot too, he stayed out of the way as well. They shared their large table comfortably, drinking their high-grade and watching as the party slowly started to wind down as dawn started to sneak up on them. It was no surprise that the party had lasted so long. The twins deserved nothing less than a raucous send off before the morning came and their apprenticeships started.

Sideswipe, unfortunately, had not been able to enjoy the whole party to the fullest. As it ended up, he'd drank too much. No one was really surprised. He was the kind of bot who seemed like he would drink too much on his first round with high-grade. It didn't help matters that every time he'd turned around, someone was shoving a cube into his hands. Now his unconscious frame was laying on the table next to Flicker and Blaze's table.

Blaze kept an optic on Sideswipe's frame, though there wasn't much of a need. Both of Sideswipe's creators were with him. Blindside was sober, sitting in a chair while he shook his head and sighed over the fact that Sideswipe was turning out to be just like Wildride. Wildride was over-energized and sitting astride Sideswipe's chest, a marker in hand as he doodled over Sideswipe's faceplate. Whenever a stumbling bot found their way over, Wildride would hand over his marker and let them sign their designation on his unconscious victim's frame.

"You ever wonder what life would be like if we were normal?" Blaze suddenly asked, glancing at Flicker.

Flicker grunted, finishing off his energon cube. "Life would be boring."

"True." With an inclination of his head, Blaze finished off his own cube.

Flicker suddenly sat up a little straighter, peering across the pleasure house to the stairs leading up to the next floor. A flash of golden plating had caught his attention. Generally speaking, Cybertronians weren't that dependant on their optics, but performers learned to be proficient with their sense of sight; Flicker recognized that flash of golden plating. His mouthplates curled up as watched Sunstreaker sneak up a staircase with someone right behind him. Leaning over, Flicker nudged Blaze.

"Take a look," murmured the bright yellow bot, pointing in the right direction.

"That's our little Sunny," Blaze drawled, squinting in the right direction. "And isn't that a… Primus, isn't that a Security Response officer?"

"Yep, that is definitely an officer," Flicker revved. "Crystal City by the looks of him."

Wildride and Blindside both looked up, their attentions drawn to the conversation. They turned in time to see Sunstreaker be tugged down a step by the mech with him. Both young bots were laughing. The officer whispered something to Sunstreaker. Sunstreaker covered his mouthplates and chuckled, and then leaned down to rub his forehead affectionately to the officer's.

"Oh, that's Blue," Blindside exclaimed happily.

Sideswipe flickered back to consciousness momentarily. "I'm not blue, I'm red!"

Wildride rolled his optics and smacked his creation's head back down on the table. "No, you're dumb. Go back to recharging."

Instantly, Sideswipe was unconscious again.

Staidly ignoring his mate and creation, Blindside appealed to Blaze and Flicker, "You remember the twins' little friend from the Youth Sector, don't you?"

"That little thing that talked a lot?" Flicker wondered.

"Yep," Blindside nodded, his smile growing wider. "I called him from Crystal City so he could be here. I knew Sunny and Sides were really close to him; it didn't seem right to have a reformatting party without inviting him."

"You're always so thoughtful," Blaze intoned. "He looks like he turned out real well, a Security Response officer and all. You don't get much better than that."

"Good for Sunny, bagging himself a Security Response officer," Wildride said proudly.

Sunstreaker stopped dead just before he disappeared, as if sensing the many sets optics on him. His head jerked around, immediately zeroing in on his family. Even at the distance he was at, it was obvious his optics had narrowed dangerously on them. All four stuntbots grinned broadly and offered the young bot double thumbs up. Sunstreaker rolled his optics and yanked his friend up the stairs, out of sight.

* * *

"That was embarrassing," Sunstreaker groaned as they made it to the top of the stairs.

"They're just happy for you," Bluestreak replied teasingly, tickling his fingers down the smaller bot's plating. "I'm happy for you, too."

The golden mech murmured quietly, content to enjoy the pleasant touches. "I'm pretty happy for me too right now… except for my family cheering me on downstairs. It doesn't get much worse than that."

"Be glad we have their approval," Bluestreak offered optimistically. "Imagine how much more embarrassing it would be if they came up here and busted down the door."

Sunstreaker crossed his optics and groaned. That sounded exactly like something they would do.

"How about we just forget about them? We should enjoy the moment," Bluestreak said, pressing a little closer. Warm air breathed out his vents, caressing down Sunstreaker's plating. The golden mech squirmed, liking the wonderful feelings running through him. He was more than happy to forget about everything else except the mech he was with.

"Do you know what to do?" Bluestreak murmured, nuzzling Sunstreaker's fins.

"I think so… I know the basics, I guess." Even if he had never interfaced like this before, he knew what was supposed to happen. Bots could slip their fingers beneath each other's plating to touch neural wires directly. Magnetic touches also felt really good when applied the right way, but that took a little bit of skill. It was all about making each other feel good. The crescendo would come when their minds connected, creating a feedback of pleasure between them, sending them both to an overload.

"Don't worry, I know what to do," Bluestreak assured. He placed his hands on either side of Sunstreaker's chassis and introduced a gentle swell of magnetism. It tickled all throughout Sunstreaker's frame. He groaned and squirmed, wriggled and snorted a ticklish laugh.

"Where'd you learn that from?" Sunstreaker wondered, feeling delighted and lightheaded. He was glad that Bluestreak was bigger than him, able to hold him up. It felt like his knees had turned to jelly; he never expected magnetic pulses to feel so good.

"Other officers," Bluestreak replied honestly. "My precinct is really open. You can have a different interfacing partner every night if you wanted. We get tested for viruses regularly, too, so you never have to worry about catching anything." He used another gentle magnetic pulse, eliciting a similar pleasured reaction from Sunstreaker.

"That feels really _good_," groaned the golden bot. "I'm clean, too. I don't have any viruses."

"I know. You wouldn't have been reformatted if you were infected," Bluestreak assured. "I'll make this good for you, I promise."

Sunstreaker giggled, trailing his fingers up and down Bluestreak's frame. "You're already making it pretty good."

"I am?" Bluestreak chirped excitedly.

"Uh-huh," Sunstreaker breathed, nodding vigorously.

They leaned into each other and twittered like they were still a pair of younglings.

Sunstreaker cleared his vents unsteadily, leaning up to brush his forehead to Bluestreak's. "Maybe we should get a room first."

"Oh yeah, a room would be good. Yeah… a room would be really good." Bluestreak rubbed the back of his neck embarrassedly.

They managed to part from each other sheepishly, peering around the richly painted hallway. To their mild embarrassment, they were not alone. Two pleasure bots were standing at the far end of the hall, giggling quietly as they watched. Another pleasure bot's head was poking out of a nearby doorway, his large optics glittering impishly. All of the pleasure bots at _Spinning Wheels_ knew Sunny well; they knew how much his reformatting meant to him, and they weren't above teasing him a little.

"Having fun, Sunny?" one of the pleasure bots asked cheekily.

"Um… yes?" Sunstreaker replied, revving in embarrassment.

One of the pleasure bots looked Bluestreak up and down with an appraising optic, and then offered an approving nod to Sunstreaker. "He looks like a good catch."

"Crystalline bots are known for being kind lovers," said another pleasure. "He'll be a good first for you."

Bluestreak revved a little. "I'll do my best."

A door at the far end of the hall clicked open, admitting Eros, one of the owners of the pleasure house. Another bot came out after him, a client. They touched hands, exchanging credits. As they bid each other affectionate goodbyes, Eros finally noticed Sunstreaker and Bluestreak. Upon seeing Sunstreaker, Eros smiled warmly and beckoned him over. Once close enough, Eros offered some very affectionate congratulations on Sunstreaker's reformatting, and happily exclaimed over how gorgeous he was- looking just like a retro-classic pleasure bot! He hadn't seen a frame that lovely in a very long time. If Sunstreaker ever had the urge to become a pleasure bot, _Spinning Wheels_ would always be open to him.

It was a kind offer, but Sunstreaker didn't think he had the right temperament.

"Thank you, I'm glad you like it, Eros," Sunstreaker replied, flustered. He glanced at Bluestreak, who grinned in return.

Eros saw the exchange, clapping his hands together. "Ah, I see what you two are about. Looking for a room, are you?"

"Um, yeah, I guess…" Sunstreaker twittered, squeezing Bluestreak's hand tightly.

Eros nodded merrily. "Well, since you're such a special bot, I'll unlock Elysia's room for you. She's downstairs working the floor, so she'll never know the difference." He stepped across the hall and unlocked the appropriate door, offering a sweeping gesture into the room. "Have fun, you two!"

Giggling incessantly, the pair of young bots trotted into the room and let the door snap closed behind them. As it turned out, Elysia's room was a trip into a lair of pure decadence. The walls were painted in rich reds and golds, jewels dripping from every available surface. A sparkling chandelier hung from the ceiling. Warm, golden light filled the room, glowing off every surface, and casting glittering rainbows off every crystal ornament. Even the berth was a rich confection of sensuality with its soft polymer covering made of deep, deep red.

Sunstreaker walked several steps into the room and turned in a circle, dazzled by what he saw. While he had been to _Spinning Wheels_ many times, and he was good friends with all of the pleasure bots that worked here, this was the first time he had ever been in one of their private rooms. He was definitely not disappointed by what he saw. As he turned in a full circle to take in the splendour of Elysia's room, rainbows of glittering red glinted off the rubies that hung from his fins. "This place is so amazing!"

Bluestreak stayed near the door, peering around with similar curious delight. _"Gorgeous."_

"It really is, isn't it?" Sunstreaker sighed.

Bluestreak's gaze lingered on Sunstreaker's faceplate, a smile curling his mouthplates. "Who says I was talking about the room?"

"_Oh."_ Sunstreaker looked at his feet, his spark fluttering. He was nervous, excited, and flattered all at the same time.

"Um, before we do anything, I just gotta say something," Bluestreaker murmured, unable to take his optics off his company. Cast in golden light and speckled with glinting ruby red, Sunstreaker looked like an avatar. Too beautiful to be real.

Sunstreaker canted his head. "What is it?"

"It's just… I've wanted to do this with you for a really long time," Bluestreak confessed. "I've liked you for a really long time." He then shook his head. "I liked your brother, too- he was so funny and strange. But _you_… you were always so mature. It was like you already had seen and done more than most bots get to do in a lifetime. I really liked that about you- how smart you were, and how talented…"

Sunstreaker placed a gentle hand over the blue-grey mech's mouthplates to stop him from rambling. "I think you're pretty awesome, too, Blue."

That seemed to be exactly what he wanted to hear, because Bluestreak suddenly reached out and scooped Sunstreaker up. His frame was certainly stronger than it looked. In a few long strides, Bluestreak was able to deposit Sunstreaker on the berth. As he was set down, Sunstreaker scrambled to sit up, tugging Bluestreak down with him.

"So, um, what do we do now?" Sunstreaker twittered.

"We touch; we make each other feel good," Bluestreak replied, a dopey grin decorating his faceplate.

The golden bot revved. "I don't even know where to start."

"I'll show you," Bluestreak replied, turning so as to gently guide Sunstreaker down to the berth. He was careful only to rest a little bit of his weight on the smaller mech, leaving most of it lying on the berth. Their plating chinked together. It was so quiet in the room, they could hear their own hydraulics sighing as they moved, their coolant fans humming. Bluestreak traced his hands over Sunstreaker's frame, marvelling at every detail. He couldn't imagine anyone being more beautiful.

Sunstreaker mimicked the touches, finding out what felt the best on Blue and where. Feeling someone else's fingers beneath his plating was a bit weird, but it felt so good. When Bluestreak's fingers brushed over a neural wire, a sensitive circuit, it felt like… it was really hard to describe. It felt _good_, he knew that much. His frame was still so new to him, some of the touches surprised him. A scroll on the corner of his vision informed him that his internal temperature was rising; he could _feel_ his innards beginning to warm. His spark wouldn't stop fluttering.

"It feels good, doesn't it?" Bluestreak murmured, gently brushing the golden mech with soft magnetic pulses. A groan was his reply.

Sunstreaker's optics glittered, sparkling with red dots of reflected light from his dangling jewellery. His dextrous fingers reached out and slipped beneath his partner's plating; a tentative magnetic pulse was used. It was almost too weak to feel, seeing as Sunstreaker had never used magnetic pulses before. It took a second pulse to get it right. Bluestreak felt the magnetic wave straight through to his spark. His mouthplates dropped open on a moan, his frame arching. Emboldened, Sunstreaker tried it again with similar satisfying results.

"Wow, you're a quick learner," Blue breathed, writhing. His hands tightened on Sunstreaker, dragging him close. Their foreheads brushed. The light from their optics reflected on each other's faceplates.

"You're a good teacher," Sunstreaker replied, shuddering as he discovered that the crevice where his fins met his head was sensitive, especially when a certain someone was blowing warm air there. His fingers danced along Bluestreak's frame, doing everything that came to his mind. He wanted to make Blue feel as good as he did, because Bluestreak was making him feel really, really good.

A muted click sounded from between them, nearly lost in the chinking of metal, shifting frames and humming fans. Sunstreaker's fingers fumbled across the exposed cable, holding it up for inspection. It was an average cable, a couple shades darker than Bluestreak's paintjob.

"So now we interface?" wondered the mech, hearing how breathless he sounded.

"If you want to," Bluestreak replied, sounded just as swept away in the moment. "You don't have to if you don't want to. We can keep doing this, if you want to. Just touching and stuff-."

A panel on the front of Sunstreaker's chest popped open, just below the space where his neck met his shoulder. Before Blue could get in another word, Sunstreaker inserted the officer's cable. In another flash, the golden mech took his own cable and popped it into Blue's port.

"I said I wanted to do this, Blue. I want to do it with you," laughed the golden mech, bending forward to rub his forehead to the other mech's.

There was nothing particularly different about interfacing for pleasure as there was for interfacing for any other kind of purpose. The process was exactly the same; bots connected through their cables and ports, theirs minds would synchronize, and then came the falling sensation as the barriers of the mind opened up and two minds would collide in a strange, out-of-body kind of way. Both Sunstreaker and Bluestreak had plenty of experience with regular interfacing, so they didn't sway or try to catch themselves as newbies might.

Once their minds and frames were settled, Sunstreaker shifted, trying to recall what they had done together last time that had felt good. Blue immediately caught on to Sunstreaker's thoughts, giggling.

"I remember what it was," he said. He pressed forward through their connection; it wasn't like he was sending a memory or anything like that. It was much more like his mind itself was pushing forward. It was a ticklish physical sensation at the same time that it was a warm mental sensation as thoughts were pushed out of the way to make room for him. Sunstreaker closed his optics as he felt Bluestreak reaching out. He could feel a warm touch to his mind; thoughts directly touching thoughts. It was better than a physical touch. He felt it deeper.

"Wow," he breathed, cycling his air unsteadily. "Let me try." Carefully, he reached out with his own mind. He passed through the ethereal barrier between his mind and the secondary mind connected to his. All around him there was new data, new thoughts, new files, new memories. Thinking about pleasure, he impressed the sensation into Bluestreak. He was nervous, so he didn't press that hard. The sensation that was created was more like a tickle, making Bluestreak wriggle and laugh.

"You can come in a little deeper if you want," Bluestreak invited, wrapping his arms around Sunstreaker and drawing him close. "You won't hurt me if you press harder."

Emboldened by the invitation, Sunstreaker impressed himself deeper into Bluestreak's mind. A low noise came from Bluestreak's parted mouthplates. A ghost of the sensation looped back to Sunstreaker through the connection, causing him to shudder. He felt wonderfully good. Pleasuring someone else brought pleasure right back to him. He pressed forward again, touching as much as he could.

Bluestreak made a noise again, a cross between a laugh and a moan. "Now you're catching on," he said, returning his partner's enthusiasm. Both his mind and hands reached for Sunstreaker, tickling and touching him everywhere.

They ended up both laughing, wiggling against each other. Their plating chinked. Slates of metal got caught on each other. The longer their minds melded with each other, the more their movements synced. Their laughter faded into other noises. Gasps. Groans. The whirring of their fans got a little louder as their frames heated up. Their energon rushed through their energon lines, making them dizzy and lightheaded even as they turned liquid and pliant, moving against each other like the tides of an ocean against the shore.

In the background, there was a third mind lurking.

Sunstreaker was nothing if he was not a part of Sideswipe.

* * *

Perhaps it was Sunstreaker's present activity that snapped Sideswipe out of his stupor.

Or perhaps it was Flashdance shoving a marker up his olfactory sensor in revenge for the paint brush Sideswipe had once shoved up his so long ago.

Whatever the reason for him regaining consciousness, he came to so suddenly that the world exploded into colour and sound. He groaned, hands shooting to the sides of his head. Flashdance had no chance to scramble away before he was caught. As soon as Sideswipe's optics focused, his gaze met with his brother's, and then Flashdance subtly leaned away.

"I, um- I can explain," said the dancer.

Sideswipe wasn't interested in explanations. He sat up, letting the marker in olfactory sensor fall out. He stared at Flashdance for an astrosecond, and then promptly purged all over the other mech's front. With a howl, Flashdance shot back. Their table overbalanced, sending them both to the floor. The sudden movement upset Sideswipe's tanks again, causing him to purge once more… this time right all over the side of Flashdance's head. The second spray of energon caused the dancer to shriek, flailing his arms as he felt the lukewarm oozing liquid start to seep between his plating. The movement and noise was too much for Sideswipe, who was now discovering the horrible condition of being caught between being over-energized and being hungover.

In an attempt to escape his throbbing headache, he curled up into a little ball on the floor.

Above him came unrepentant laughter as his family doubled over and laughed at his pain.

Flashdance continue to swear over the energon congealing all over him. Several tired pleasure bots came over and guided him to a backroom where they could help clean him off. With Flashdance gone, the laughter died. Sidedswipe dared to crack his optics open. For the first time, he noticed that music was no longer playing and the flashing lights were gone, replaced by the low-key golden lights hanging from the ceiling. The only noises were murmured snoring from unconscious bots and russelling sounds as drones and pleasure bots cleaned up their home.

Wildride crouched by Sideswipe's side and hauled the poor bot into a chair. The older bot was not gentle in treating his creation; Sideswipe could feel the energon inside his tanks sloshing around. He gurgled, gagging. Thankfully, he didn't purge again. Once the world stopped spinning and his tanks settled down again, he leaned to the side and wrapped his arms around Blindside, taking comfort in the one adult around him who was not taking delight in his over-indulgence in high-grade.

"Is the party over?" he mumbled into the star-spangling metal of Blindside's middle.

"Awwww, sweetspark, you poor little thing." A gentle hand came down, stroking Sideswipe's head. A very weak magnetic pulse flared, further soothing Sideswipe. "You missed a lot of the party."

Sideswipe groaned, hugging himself tighter to Blindside. "Where's Sunny?"

"He's upstairs having fun with Blue," Wildride replied, plopping into his own chair. He was over-energized, but he still had a good sense of balance as he tilted his chair back on two legs and rocked back and forth.

"Blue?" Sideswipe wondered wearily.

"You know, _Blue_- your friend from the Youth Sector?" Wildride drawled, as if Sideswipe were suddenly stupid.

"He's a Security Response officer now," Blaze intoned.

Sideswipe thought hard, then groaned when it became apparent that thinking hurt. Blue did sound familiar, though. A vague blue-green smudge of a memory came to mind. Mostly, all he could concentrate on was the fact that his head hurt, the lights were too bright, and normal talking was too loud. With a pained sigh, he lifted his legs and let them lay across Thrillride's lap. "This is the last time I ever drink high-grade," he vowed solemnly.

"Right," Wildride drawled. "We'll see how long that lasts."

"Never, never, never," Sideswipe chanted.

A slight tapping came from nearby, several gazes snapping up to see a slim pleasure bot standing next to a table. He was knocking on the tabletop in place of knocking on a door for politeness.

"Sideswipe's online?" wondered the minibot.

Sideswipe waved his arm weakly.

"Oh, you poor little thing," cooed the bot. With light footsteps, he came over and crouched down, offering a tray laden with a cube of clear liquid and small chips of chalky white stuff. "Here, this should help with the hangover."

Sideswipe stared at the offered gifts. "What are they?"

The pleasure bot held up the white chips. "This is chalk. It'll absorb the high-grade in your tanks. Don't eat too much of it because it's not good for you. As soon as you feel better, you drink this," the cube of clear liquid was held up. "It's hydrochloric acid. It'll dissolve the chalk you ate so that it doesn't clog up your systems. It'll take away a lot of the excess energy in your system so you won't be so sick."

Blindside took one of the chunks of chalk and held it to Sideswipe's mouthplates. While Sideswipe was reduced to eating out of his creator's hand, Blindside decided to scold him gently. "Keep in mind that this isn't a permanent solution. You don't go eating chalk every time you drink high-grade. You get a freebie this time because it was your first time drinking, but next time you're just going to have to suffer."

The scolding was unnecessary. Sideswipe was sure he would never drink high-grade again. As he grinded the chalk into powder, he discovered that it was disconcerting to have something solid in between his mouthplates. He'd only ever had liquids and crumbs of energon goodies that he could swallow whole. The extra effort of grinding things down didn't seem worth it. Especially chalk. Chalk was gross. It was dry and immediately started to clog everything up with chalk dust. The stuff that made it down to his tanks settled heavily, already starting to soak up the high-grade in big gobs of goop.

It was a short time before Flashdance returned to them. His plating was freshly cleaned and shined, though his expression was a mottled mix of irritation and pouting. He was immediately set upon by the other stuntbots, teasing him relentlessly. Sideswipe would have loved to have joined in, but he didn't dare open his mouthplates. It felt as if one wrong move would have him purging again, and with the chalk in his tanks now, he did _not_ want to see what it looked like when it came up.

Casting his optics around, the young mech noticed that most of the party-goers were already gone. A few stragglers remained, some conscious and some not. Debris littered the floor- broken cubes and scattered confetti. The whole room stank of spilt high-grade. Sideswipe felt a bit of chagrin burn through him, wishing he'd been conscious a little longer to enjoy more of his own party.

Out of curiosity, he reached out to Sunstreaker to see how he and Blue were doing. All he got was a wonderful sense of… _contentment_?

"Damn him," Sideswipe pouted, wishing the chalk would work faster so he could feel better and be able to complain properly over the unfairness of the world.

From the staircase on the far side of the room came two sets of clattering footsteps. Giggling came close on the heels of the steps. All optics were on the stairs as Sunstreaker and Bluestreak appeared. They were absorbed in each other, their optics bright and their mouthplates stretched wide with ridiculous grins. It was not until they stumbled to the bottom and turned into the room that they realized the party was over. They coughed, straightening up in an attempt to make themselves look presentable. Their attempts failed the moment their optics wandered to each other, causing them to break down into fits of giggles again.

Sideswipe watched the scene with a pout, reaching out to Sunstreaker. He got a small nudge back, but the golden bot was currently too distracted to offer much attention elsewhere.

Blaze raised a hand and waved the pair over. That's all it took to get them to start giggling again, but they made their way over nonetheless.

"Did you two have fun?" Thrillride asked brightly.

"Lots of fun," Bluestreak replied happily. "Sunstreaker caught on to the whole thing really quickly."

"Blue's a great teacher," Sunstreaker mumbled, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly.

"I knew you two would have a great time," Blindside gushed.

"I think Sunny deserves applause," Wildride teased in a singsong voice. As expected, merry applause rose up from the stuntbots. They were ridiculously happy for their little Sunny. He was pretty now, gaining a little confidence, and having a bit of fun. What more could they ask for? The only one who didn't clap was Sideswipe. Sunstreaker noticed, arching an optic ridge at his brother.

"Too over-energized to clap?" he wondered tauntingly.

"I'll clap later when I'm sure it won't make me purge," Sideswipe slurred. He shifted in his seat, quite sure the chalk had done its job by now. He grasped the cube of hydrochloric acid and drank it fast. It was vile. The worst tasting thing he had ever drank. The acid reacted with the chalk dust caught in the cracks of his mouthplates, foaming and fizzing. The rest of the acid foamed and fizzed the rest of the way down, burning straight to his tanks. He bent forward and gagged, but all that came up was flecks of foam and a fizzing noise.

Sunstreaker stared in horror. "Should he be foaming at the mouthplates?"

"It's just a little bit of chalk and hydrochloric acid. He'll feel better in a moment," Blindside assure, rubbing Sideswipe's back. He didn't even grimace when Sideswipe started drooling all down his legs, slowly oozing the reacted concoction out of his system. Blindside, as any other troupe member, was all too familiar with the old chalk'n'acid trick.

The aerials sidled up to either side of Bluestreak, their short stature requiring them to lean far back to be able to look him up and down.

"So…" Skyfly drawled slyly. "Staying long in the capitol?"

Bluestreak shifted on his feet, offering a hapless half-smile. "I'd like to, I really would…"

Clouddrift canted his head. "So what's stopping you?"

Blue look helplessly to Sunstreaker, but there was no help to be found there. He was curious was Blue couldn't stay either. With a sigh, he admitted, "I wasn't really able to get that much time off. Only a couple of orns… basically long enough to get here, enjoy the party, and get back to work. I'd love to stay if I could, but I can't."

Sunstreaker deflated. "I understand," he sighed. "It's not like I'd be here long anyways…" He checked his chronometer. "Elita One is going to be here to pick me up in a few joors." He blinked in surprise. "Slag, I didn't think it was that late! I'm not even going to be able to recharge before she gets here! I won't even be able to polish myself!"

"Don't worry, you'll look good no matter what," Bluestreak murmured bashfully, his fingers lacing with Sunstreaker's. Sunstreaker's panicked tirade cut off as he stared at his linked fingers, and then he twittered.

"Blue loves Sunny," Skyfly teased.

"Sunny loves Blue," Clouddrift sang.

"Suck exhaust, you two," Sunny pouted, bending down to shoo them away. They took to the air laughing, blowing coloured smoke around while they cackled.

"They only tease you because they love you," Blindside said.

"Is it wrong that I wish they loved me a little less?" Sunstreaker whined.

"You'll feel differently in the morning. The important part is that we're very happy that you found Blue and had a good time with him." His too-happy smile broadcasted his hopes that he might have played the merry little matchmaker for his creation. First loves were always special loves. If Sunny could find that in Blue, well, that would be _perfect_. They made such a cute couple!

Blue rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Well, it's getting late… or early… um, you know what I mean. The only flight I could book back to Crystal City was an early one, so I should get to the transport terminal before my flight leaves without me."

"I'll walk you outside," Sunstreaker chirped.

Wildride hauled Sideswipe up. "Take your brother with you. He needs fresh air." Sideswipe's head lulled up, still drooling a little bit.

Sunstreaker wrinkled his olfactory sensor. "Do I have to?"

"Just take him," his creator insisted, shoving him into Sunstreaker's arms. "After you see Blue off, you two can head on home. Don't worry about the mess. We'll stay to help clean it up."

"Pit yeah, no clean-up duty," Sideswipe slurred into Sunstreaker's audio.

With many merry goodbyes bid to Blue from the troupe, the trio of young bots made their way out of _Spinning Wheels_. In the front yard, they discovered several more fallen bodies, unconscious where they laid. Because of his programming, Blue had to scan each one to make sure they were all right and didn't need medical assistance. As it turned out, they were all just over-energized, not that anyone was expecting any less.

"When you bots party, you _party_," said the officer with a shake of his head.

"It's part of our charm," Sunstreaker shrugged, though the gesture was difficult with Sideswipe leaning heavily on him.

They made it to the edge of the transport way, standing there awkwardly. One way would take Blue to the terminal where he'd be taken back to Crystal City. The other direction was the local transit that would take the twins home.

"You know, Blue, you're not so bad when you don't talk so much," Sideswipe intoned.

Bluestreak blinked, than laughed. "You're not so bad when you're not doing stupid stuff," he replied.

It was Sideswipe's turn to laugh. He offered his hand to his old friend, grasping it tight. "Have a good one in Crystal City."

"I will. Good luck with your training here- you'll be a great performer."

With a half-smile and a bit of a groan, Sideswipe straightened to his feet. He didn't say anything as he lumbered off for the transit stop, but it was implied that he was giving his brother and Blue a few last moments alone.

Sunstreaker scuffed his feet on the ground. "So, um…"

"Yeah…" Bluestreak rubbed the back of his neck.

"Thank for tonight," Sunstreaker abruptly said.

"You're welcome," Bluestreak immediately replied.

Their gazes wandered around the vicinity, wondering how to make their parting a little less awkward.

"If you're ever in Crystal City…"

"I'll look you up," Sunstreaker finished.

Bluestreak grinned. "Good."

"So… you better get going," Sunstreaker said reluctantly.

"Yeah, I guess so." Bluestreak glanced behind him at the road, then back at Sunstreaker. He leaned down and rubbed his forehead affectionately to the golden bot's. When they parted, they were both smiling. "There, now I can go." With that, he transformed and zipped out onto the transport way.

With a dreamy sigh, Sunstreaker turned on his heel and wandered over to the bench where Sideswipe sat. Before he even got there, the transit craft came, so they both boarded and headed straight for the back. It was such a late/early hour that the whole craft was empty except for the pilot. That was a small blessing. Neither twin was up for much fanfare at the moment. They wanted to get home and get some recharge before dawn came and their new lives began. They leaned back in their seats, both wearing vague grins about their mouthplates.

"Some night, huh?" Sunstreaker sighed.

Sideswipe laughed. "Yeah, some night."


	26. Chapter 18

Hey everyone~ It's been a while since I've updated, right? Life been, you know, life. Inspiration kind of dried for a time for this story, but hopefully it's back. This is more of a transition chapter than anything, so not much happens. Hopefully you're still willing to show the love so I continue. ^_^

**Knocks**- ^_^

**AutobotSyds643**- Haha, yeah, bots were certainly having all kinds of fun in the last chapter. XD I'm glad you enjoy how I write the story. Thank you for reviewing~!

**Daklog73**- lol~ Yeah, I don't know a lot of people who could take their family's teasing about their first time. Sunstreaker was a good sport about it. =P Oh wow, you've thrown up on someone? Haha, that's pretty epic... in a gross kind of way. XD Thank you so much for reviewing~! ^_^

**animelover1993**- Heh, yeah, it seems that Sunstreaker and Bluestreak is a favourite of quite a few people. Don't get too hung up on the pairing in this story, though. Life has a habit of getting in the way, you know? =P

**yoong**- Life really is just too unfair to dear little Sideswipe. Sunstreaker got all the fun and he suffers with the hangover. XD I have no idea who his first interface partner will be, so only time will tell. =P

**Faecat**- Too true, my dear. There is nothing like being teased by your family over something like _that_! XD

**femme4jack**- Oh, Sideswipe's vow to never drink high-grade again is full of hot air. XD As for how I came up with the hydrochloric acid and chalk bit, it's just something I remember from one of my university classes and decided to have some fun with. XD I'm glad you enjoy my treatment of pleasure bots. In real life, I'm a huge advocate for respecting the men and women in that profession, so I wanted to add something like that in this story. =)

**MoonstarWorld**- Hahaha, I don't know if Sideswipe is the careful type. He might learn his lesson, or he might not. Only time will tell. =P

**1bloodtempest**- Looks like you enjoyed the exact same parts of the chapter that I did! XD Elysia's rooms are actually modelled after Parisian bordello rooms, so you could probably watch the movie _Moulin Rouge_ and see something very similar. =P If you're curious about seeing hydrochloric acid react with chalk, the process is really similiar to vinegar and baking soda, though it doesn't smell as bad. There's just a lot of white foam and gas involved. XD Thanks so much for reading and reviewing~! You're the best. ^_^

**Nightblooming Orchid**- Goodness, 25 chapters in one sitting? That's very impressive! I'm happy that you enjoyed what you read. Thank you so much for reviewing. ^_^

**Shinigami-Sama1**- I'm glad that you enjoy my portrayals of the twins in their formative years. Thank you so much for reviewing. =)

**DitzyMusicLover**- Thank you~ I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter. ^_^

**Lecidre**- Really, you never thought of Sunstreaker and Bluestreak as being a couple? That's cool. I've seen the pairing around, so I wanted to try it out in this story. Even I didn't know that they'd turn out so adorable together! XD It's so wonderful to hear that you picked up on how different I am trying to make Cybertronian culture from the cultures here on Earth. It irks me when I read Transformers fics where writers directly apply their own human understanding to the bots, so writing this story is my chance to change things. =P Oh goodness, you and your uniforms! XD Now that you put the image of Bluestreak in a handsome uniform and Sunstreaker as an Adonis next to him, I simply can't get the image out of my head! XD

**Shizuka Taiyou**- True, true, Sideswipe and stupid stuff seem to attract each other. There will never be a shortage of the two in this story. XD

**soundbarrier**- Haha, I'm happy to hear that you have enjoyed the story. Adding in all the cultural nuances of Cybertron is one of my favourite parts of writing for Surface of the Sun, so it's always rewarding to hear that there are readers out there that dig that kind of stuff. ^_^ As for Sideswipe... yeah, he probably did feel a little jealous, but how much sense he would have made to himself at the time is debatable.

Read, Review, and Enjoy~

**Chapter 18**

Morning came too soon.

One moment, the twins were resting peacefully on their berth in the room that had been theirs since the orn they came online, and the next moment, Sunstreaker's internal alarm went off. He squealed in surprise, having not expected the alarm to ring so loudly in his head. Sideswipe snapped awake in surprise as Sunstreaker's jolt became his own. The berth that had always been way too big for them, able to fit their little youngling frames easily, was now far too small to fit two bots of their size. Sunstreaker smacked his faceplate into the wall, howling when his olfactory sensor got dinged. Sideswipe was not so lucky as to stay on the berth. With only a tiny jerk and a loud yelp, he flipped to the ground and landed on his shoulder and knee.

"Damn it!" he cursed, flopping to the side and flailing over his injuries.

"Frag!" Sunstreaker squealed, spinning around to find out where his brother had disappeared to.

They hadn't expected to hear their new voices, which made them jump in surprise and swing around to see if anyone new was standing in the room. No one else was in the room... that they could see. Their gazes shot to each other, taking in their new appearances. They blinked dumbly, and then remembered that they had reformatted the orn before. New frames meant new voices. They pointed and laughed at each other until they didn't feel so silly about forgetting.

Once the silliness wore off, Sideswipe clutched his shoulder and Sunstreaker stretched carefully, waking himself up a little more. He was confused for a moment when he still heard ringing in his head, only to remember that he hadn't turned off his internal alarm yet. With a thought, all was silenced in his head.

"So, um, I guess we're a little too big for that berth now," Sideswipe said sheepishly, shifting around so that he sat up with his back propped against the low metal slab.

"We won't be recharging here anymore, so it doesn't matter much," Sunstreaker replied with a shrug.

Sideswipe's smile faded. "Oh yeah…" He'd be recharging with the rest of the troupe in the normal dormitories from now on. Sunstreaker would be gone completely from the coliseum.

Sunstreaker swung his long legs over the edge of the side of the berth, popping to his feet. He stretched again, enjoying the delicious feeling of his new, fresh frame sliding and cracking into place. The tension wires and hydraulics were still new, still stiff, but there was plenty of time to work them in. The pleasant feelings from his interlude with Bluestreak still radiated through his frame, making him feel a thousand times better.

"You're so pretty," Sideswipe sighed dreamily, leaning against the berth to stare up at his brother from the floor.

"I've always wanted to be pretty. It's nice that I finally am." Sunstreaker smiled down at his brother… then started laughing. "Did you know you're still covered in doodles?"

"What?" Sideswipe looked down at himself- his arms, legs, and chest were covered in bold black doodles and messages from well-wishers. Horror became paramount on his features. He grabbed Sunstreaker's shiny leg and used it like a mirror to observe the artistic damage wrought on his faceplate. "You gotta be kidding me! I thought I hallucinated this!"

"Apparently not," Sunstreaker chuckled, taking his leg back before he fell over.

"I rode the transit like this," groaned the red mech, burying his faceplate in his palms. "Couldn't you have told me I looked like a complete idiot? I could have washed it off or something."

Sunstreaker shrugged, laughing quietly. "I didn't see the point in telling you. With or without the marker, you still look like an idiot."

Sideswipe looked up from his palms to glare, only to end up laughing. "You're such a glitch."

"It's part of my charm," Sunstreaker replied cheekily. He grabbed his brother's arm and helped haul him to his feet. "It'll come off in the wash racks. I'll help you get it all off if you help me shine up before Elita One gets here."

"Deal," Sideswipe replied.

They twined their fingers as they quietly made their way down familiar halls to the wash racks. Through their bond, they felt the anxiousness of the other. Last night, most of their nervousness had been drowned beneath flashing lights, loud music, and lots of high grade. Now there was nothing to buffer reality. They knew the time was coming when they would have to part ways.

Sideswipe stumbled a step.

Sunstreaker caught him, holding his hand tight.

"It's going to be okay, right?" Sideswipe asked, his tone shaking lightly. When it was just the two of them, he was not as confident as he liked the rest of the world to think he was.

"Of course it's going to be okay. Sparkmates are apart all the time," Sunstreaker murmured. "It won't be forever, you know? We can't stay apart forever."

"Yeah..." Logically, Sideswipe knew that their bond meant they could could never be apart for long, but still... There would always be a little part of him that was nervous to be so far away from a piece of himself. What if everything that made him himself was only because Sunstreaker was near? Who would he be if Sunstreaker was gone? If half his spark was gone, did that mean he was less of a transformer than everyone else?

It was so quiet throughout the entire coliseum, they could hear the doors open on the far side of the building. Groggy voices that were too loud for the morning and stumbling footsteps that were either from exhaustion or inebriation echoed. The doors slammed shut like thunder, but the voices and footsteps remains, getting louder if anything.

"Sounds like everyone's home," Sunstreaker said quietly, casting an arched look in Sideswipe's direction.

"I wonder if they'll stay online long enough to say goodbye," Sideswipe replied.

"They will," Sunstreaker assured. If that was one thing he could count on, he knew that his family loved him enough to say goodbye to him before he left with Elita One.

They were both quiet in the wash racks. Sometimes they tried to say something, but it soon became apparent to both of them that they were better off saying nothing at all. They knew each other's sparks, which was better than words. The heat of the showers and the pleasure of having warm liquid sluice down their frames was comforting. The marker Wildride had used on Sideswipe turned out to be _permanent_. It did not want to come off easily, prompting the twins to scrub so hard they nearly took Sideswipe down to the bare metal. While the marker itself was annoying as pit, the messages that bots had written were really kind-

"_Good luck with your apprenticeship!" _

"_Your new frame looks so good!"_

"_You'll make a good stuntbot!" _

"_Call Me!" _Followed by someone's personal contact information.

Sunstreaker ended up laughing at most of the messages and critiquing the doodles. Sideswipe mostly bemoaned the fact that he did not remember a single moment of anyone drawing on him. He reiterated several times that that was the very last time he ever touched high-grade. Sunstreaker... did not believe him.

In return for the kindness of scrubbing the marker off, Sideswipe insisted on polishing his brother. It gave him the time to admire Sunstreaker's new frame. It was prettier in the light of orn than it had been last night. The paint looked brighter, the shape softer and more handsome. Though Sunny planned to go on to be a painter himself, he looked like he could be the subject of a thousand paintings. With a quick wipe down to get rid of the grime and dust from last night, followed by a thorough polish from head to toe, Sunstreaker very well could have been the prettiest apprentice Sideswipe ever did see.

"You're not so bad yourself," Sunstreaker intoned, having understood Sideswipe's thoughts as clearly as if they had been said aloud.

"I only look this way because I have to look nice for the crowds." Sideswipe shrugged. "You're pretty just because you are, inside and out."

Sunstreaker twittered, looking at his hands.

Sideswipe rapped his arms tight around his brother. "I love you, you know that?"

"Yeah, I know," Sunstreaker sighed. "I love you, too."

There came a knocking at the door. For a moment, the twins didn't notice a spark signature, but a second scan found one. They were so nervous, they couldn't get their frames to work properly. Flip was on the other side of the door. They hadn't even heard him approach.

"Elita One is here, little ones," Flip announced, opening the door to poke his head in. It was then that the twins discovered that Flip's head was different from what they remembered. His faceplate was not pockmarked or ancient-looking. The appearance was odd, a balance between young and old.

"Your frame..." Sideswipe said, canting his head.

Flip smiled softly and took a few steps into the wash racks, his four legs making a familiar tip-tap, tip-tap, tip-tap patter on the tiled floor. It was certainly a new frame, and unique if the twins had anything to say about it. Four legs, a thrusting chest, broad shoulders, and an indiscernible alt mode. The paint was the same plain mossy green-grey that had always seemed odd on a performer. It was not a beautiful frame, but it was one that seemed to suit Flip much better than his two-legged one had ever done. The optics had not changed, though. They still saw too much.

"That was what was in the third trailer that A3 brought," Sunstreaker observed, inspecting the frame critically.

Flip looked down at himself, and then nodded. "Yes, this is one of my older frames from a long while ago. A3 has been holding it for me, but I felt that it was time to get out of that old frame of mine and go back to my roots."

"But you look like..." Sideswipe couldn't finish the sentence. He looked like Centauron, but the wrong colour, and too short, and not as creepy, and too mortal, and- okay, he didn't really look _exactly_ like Centauron, but they both had four legs!

"I look centaurian, don't I?" offered Flip, turning in a circle for them. It was kind of funny watching him move, his four legs clip-clopping, his aft section bumping along to turn in a circle without bumping into a wall. "It's a classic Tetraxian design, even if it's gone completely out of fashion now. A complete shame, if you ask me. _I_ think it still looks fashionable."

Sunstreaker pressed his mouthplates together, because it honestly did not matter if his director looked like a mythological being or not, there was no time, place, or situation where a frame like that would ever look fashionable. Maybe that was a quirk of older bots, thinking ugly things were beautiful just because they were old. Who knew? He wasn't about to ask, just in case he insulted Flip. He didn't want to leave the troupe with anyone's feelings hurt.

"Um, yeah, a real shame," Sideswipe said lamely. "The frame going out of fashion, I mean."

Flip cast them an arched look, as if taking their measure. He smiled, and then inclined his head toward the door. "We've been in here long enough. I think it's time to go." He let Sunstreaker out of the door, but held Sideswipe back with a hand on his shoulder. The red mech stopped automatically, tensing a bit. He didn't know what to expect from the director, and the four-legged frame had him a bit on edge.

"Is there something you want?" he wondered, never letting his optics stray from Flip's gaze. Yellowed light reflected off of the bot's optical lenses, making them look the wrong colour for a moment, but it was only a trick of the light.

Flip bent down, his hand running from the side of Sideswipe's faceplate along to the side of his head, just behind his audio. "You have someone's contact information still written here," he said.

"...oh." That was entirely more anticlimactic than he had been expecting.

"You may want to wash it off later," said the director.

He swept his hand to the spot, not able to feel the writing with his fingertips but the spot burned nonetheless. "Yeah, I'll get to that. Thanks."

"You're welcome. When you catch up to Sunstreaker, tell him he'll be taken care of in Iacon," Flip said, offering a crooked smile.

"Um, sure," Sideswipe shrugged.

The director nodded and walked away, the clip-clop, clip-clop, clip-clop of his four legs echoing through the halls.

Sideswipe shook himself of the disturbing sense of déjà vu hitting him and jogged until he caught up with his brother around the corner.

"What did Flip have to say to you?" Sunstreaker wondered.

"Nothing important. He's still weird," Sideswipe shrugged, scratching at the side of his head in hopes of getting the marker off. "He said to tell you that you'll be taken care off, which is kind of _duh_, don't you think? Of course you'll be taken care off. That's what mentors are for."

"Yeah, I guess. Just because Flip gets a new frame doesn't mean he'll start making sense. We should get going before everyone starts wondering where we are,," Sunstreaker said, taking up Sideswipe's hand. They made it to the common rooms in record time, surprising themselves with their speedy arrival. Having longer legs sure did have it's advantages... or disadvantages, depending on how you viewed things. Quicker they got to places, the sooner they had to leave each other. They lingered beyond the doorway, nervous to enter even as they listened to the murmur of their family piled inside with Elita One.

Sideswipe pulled Sunstreaker close for a hug, leaning down to his brother's audio. "You know I love you, right?"

Sunstreaker smiled and hugged him back. "You said that already."

"Between then and now, I still love you."

"Okay, and I still love you."

"Cool, so we're even."

"Definitely."

A shout filtered out from the common room, Wildride's teasing voice unmistakably calling to them. "We're not going to wait all orn, dearsparks! We know you're out there!"

Blindside was instantly chiding him. "Let them have their moment, Wildride! You can be so insensitive."

Then came Elita One's melodious voice. "I'm not in a big rush, so they can take their time."

"You _say_ you're not in a big rush, but we still have to be back to the terminal on time, Elita," intoned a rough voice that neither twin recognized. It was deeper than the average femme voice, but lighter than what they would expect from a minibot. The twins wondered briefly who this new bot could be, though smartly suspecting it to be Elita's bodyguard.

Knowing their time was up whether they wanted it to be or not, the twins stepped into the doorway to reveal themselves to their family. They noted that nearly everyone was gathered in the common room, which was a little bit too small to properly fit the whole troupe. Larger bots had smaller bots sitting on them to compensate. Shifting metal bodies crammed into tight spaces. They looked awake, at least. Only a handful of them looked hungover.

Elita One sat on a small chair of her own, Sunstreaker's things packed by her legs. There were only three medium-sized cases piled on top of each other on a little trolly with wheels. Like most Cybertronians, Sunstreaker did not _own_ a lot, and most of what he did own was sparkly jewellery and art supplies, which was what was packed away in the cases. Standing at Elita's shoulder was a strong figure with grey-blue optics that matched its grey-blue armour, matched with a faceplate that did not look like it was made for smiling.

"Good morning, little ones," intoned the Prime's sparkmate. She inclined her head, which was automatically reciprocated by deep bows by the twins. The bows were clumsy, but sincere.

"Sorry we took so long," Sunstreaker breathed, finding himself stunned anew by Elita's appearance. Honestly, was it possible for someone to become more lovely since the last time he had seen them? He supposed she looked even more stunning now because he knew that she was officially his mentor now, basically his new family, and he was about to leave with her. Or maybe she looked so lovely to him because he might be falling in love with her pretty frame.

Elita waved the concern off. "You're here and that's what counts. I understand that it must be a very nerve-wracking experience for you."

"Just a little bit," admitted the golden mech. He glanced to Sideswipe, who squeezed his hand in return.

"Sunny's going to be an awesome apprentice for you," said the red mech in earnest, staring determinedly at Elita. "He's smart and clever and has a lot of talent."

"I suspected as much," Elita said warmly. She reached out and trailed her fingers down Sideswipe's faceplate, gently touching the spot behind his audio where someone's scrawled writing could still be seen. An amused smile curved at her mouthplates as she touched the writing. "I have no doubt that you will be a success as a popular stuntbot. You have that special spark about you."

He twittered, shifting on his feet as he got all flustered.

The bot behind Elita put its hand to her shoulder. "Come on, Elita. We can wait outside while they all say their goodbyes."

Elita smiled for her bodyguard. "Yes, of course. You go ahead first, Chromia. I'll be right behind you."

Chromia inclined her head briefly, grabbing the trolly with Sunstreaker's things on it and tugging it out of the common room, squeaking down the hall and out the back door.

Elita faced Sunstreaker and held his faceplate in her hands, turning him one way and then the other. She inspected him closely with a soft smile on her faceplate. She even tweaked one of his fins, causing him to laugh. "You are perhaps one of the most handsome apprentices I have ever seen. Absolutely _beautiful_." She took a step back, releasing the golden bot. "Take your time with your family. Never mind what Chromia said about meeting times. I'm the Prime's sparkmate and no ship would ever dare leave without me." With that, she turned on her heel and left her apprentice to say his goodbyes to his family.

"Primus, she gets more beautiful every time I see her," Flicker sighed dreamily, staring after Elita One.

There were a number of revved agreements from the troupe, all of them obviously enamoured with the Prime's mate.

Sunstreaker shuffled his feet against the floor, staring around at everyone. This was the moment of truth, where he was supposed to be all grown-up and stuff, being all mature while he said goodbye to his family before he went off on an awesome adventure with the universe's most beautiful avatar. Yeah, they should probably make a holovid out of a story like that, except who ever they got to play Sunstreaker and Elita would never be as lovely as the real things. Yet, even at this defining moment in his life, Sunstreaker still felt very small and vulnerable. He was still young at spark.

Blindside took a deep drag of air through his vents, but the gesture was a little shaky, like he was about to cry. The stars painted on his plating trembled with every suppressed sob. "This is it, bright spark," he said. "You're about to go off to become the great painter I know you're going to be."

"It's not like I'm going to be gone forever," Sunstreaker reasoned, twisting his hands together. "I'll probably be an awesome painter the next time you see me, though."

"The best painter," Blindside agreed.

"So... you all don't have to be so sad, right? I'm going to be back," Sunstreaker said. "I'll be back every chance I get. This will always be my home."

Blindside sniffed, standing up and going to his creation. He wrapped Sunny up in tight hug, rocking him back and forth. "You come back here any time you want. This will always, _always_ be your home. You'll always have a berth here, and room for your paintings. You can even paint on us, if you want."

Sunstreaker gave a wavering smile and hugged Blindside tight.

It was simply hard for any of the troupe to let one of their own go. It didn't happen often. They were all raised together, worked together, lived together. The troupe was all that most of them knew, and life beyond it was sometimes hard to comprehend. Wildride was the closest any of them had ever gotten to freedom from the life of a stuntbot, but even he always came back to the lifestyle. But Sunstreaker, he was really going for it. He was making a life for himself outside of the coliseum, and as his family, they couldn't help but be proud and frightened for him at the same time.

"You're going to be so great," Thrillride said encouragingly. "You'll love Iacon, Sunstreaker."

"Not only that, but Iacon is going to love you," Blaze intoned with a smirk, his deep blue optics smouldering warmly.

Blindside finally gave Sunstreaker some room, passing him off to Wildride, who grabbed him up roughly and hugged him so hard that his feet left the ground.

"Primus, you're so light," said the fireworks-painted mech, hefting Sunstreaker as if he were made of aluminium. "It's like you're still a youngling."

"Gee, thanks," Sunstreaker wheezed as he was squeezed.

"You gotta be careful on the roads, okay?" Wildride insisted. "You're too light to be doing anything wild. One bump from someone will send you right over. I do not, and I repeat _do not_, want to hear that you're in some Primus-foresaken med bay in Iacon getting treated for an accident."

"I'll be careful," Sunstreaker promised. Funny that Wildride, of all bots, was telling him to be careful. It was a testament to how worried he was.

"And you'll listen to everything that Elita tells you?" Wildride pressed.

Sunstreaker wiggled free of Wildride's embrace. "I promise to listen to everything Elita tells me."

"And if anything happens with your bond, if you feel anything unusual in your spark...?"

"Call Jetfire immediately," Sunstreaker said firmly. Jetfire was the leading scientist on their unusual spark condition, so if there were any question about their condition, he was the mech to go to. Sunstreaker squeezed his creator's hands. "I'll try not to get into trouble. I'll call every couple of orns to let you know I'm not dead. I'll send you presents and stuff when I can."

Flashdance pressed close, forehead to forehead. He threaded their hands together, sending a small list of contact information of bots that Sunstreaker didn't know. "These are some buddies of mine I know in Iacon," said the dancer. "They're mostly bots from a dance troupe in the capitol, but there's also a few from the stunt troupe too. If you have any trouble or anything, you can go to them, 'kay?"

"Okay." He started to back away, feeling choked up as he realized that he would have to leave now.

Blaze rumbled for a moment, digging into his subspace pocket. "Before you go, we picked a little something up on our way home from _Spinning Wheels_. It's just a little something, but we figured that you'll get some use out of it once you start learning things from Elita." A small package was held out that was a little too small for Blaze to handle, wrapped in a sparkly tarp. A string was tied around it in a crooked bow.

Sunstreaker stared at the offered gift for a moment before Sideswipe jolted him with an elbow into the side.

"Go on, take it," whispered the red mech.

Sunstreaker plucked it up and unwrapped it, stunned to find a tablet beneath the crooked bow and sparkly wrapping. It was a new tablet, still in its clear, protective packaging. It was clearly one of those really, really expensive tablets that had all the neat applications and you could connect to a whole bunch of different art data bases for tutorials and gallery tours. The casing colour was a shiny obsidian black with pretty red designs all over it. Sunstreaker knew just by looking at the gift that his family would have had to go far out of their way to find such a high-class art store that sold a model of tablet as sophisticated at this one.

"We figured that since your old tablet is too small for you to work with anymore, we got you a new one," Blaze said. "The merchant in the shop said this was the best one they had."

"It's amazing," Sunstreaker breathed. "How much did you pay...?"

"Never mind about that," Blindside said quickly. "It's from us to you because we love you."

"Now get out of here before Flip finds out we raided the troupe's account," Wildride laughed.

"Where is Flip, anyways?" Skyfly asked lightly. "He should say goodbye too."

"He already said his goodbyes," Sunstreaker murmured, hugging his tablet to his chest. He took one step back, then another. "Okay, so this me... going. I'm going to Iacon now. Right now." A couple more steps back. He was standing in the hall, but his family already looked so far away. Thrillride was clutching her hands together over her spark, her smile wavering between soft sniffling. Wildride had his arms wrapped around Blindside. "Yep, I'm definitely going..." He turned on his heel, making his way to the back door. He made it to the door before he heard running footsteps. Someone took a running leap at him from behind, and suddenly Sideswipe was on top of him, sobbing wildly.

"I'm going to miss you so much!" wailed the red mech. "I'm not ready to be by myself! Take me with you! I'll fit in your luggage!" A horrible embarrassing squealing cry came out of him as his arms clutched tight around his brother.

Sunstreaker was face-down in the floor, trapped beneath his sobbing brother. He really didn't have a choice to be there, seeing as Sideswipe was bigger and heavier than he was. The back door was barely a few inches in front of his faceplate. He might have wanted to cry for his family a few astroseconds ago, but now he kind of wanted Sideswipe to get off him first.

Suddenly, the back door shot open and Chromia was there wielding a gun. Elita was backed behind her protectively.

Staring down the barrel of the weapon, Sideswipe was instantly silenced.

Sunstreaker wished he could sink into the floor.

"See? I told you it wasn't something dangerous," Elita sighed, pushing Chromia away. "I swear, you're even more trigger-happy than your mate."

"Now that's just insulting," Chromia snorted, slipping her gun away. She crouched, taking Sideswipe by the scruff and hauling him away. Then she took Sunstreaker and popped him to his feet. "All right, are the goodbyes done now? Good. We have to get going, and we really don't have time for any more of this silliness."

Sunstreaker slipped from the strong bot's grip to press his forehead to his brother's. "You'll do fine without me, Sides. I believe in you."

Sideswipe took a moment to bolster himself, and then he forced his usual look of overtly stupid confidence was plastered across his faceplate. Sunstreaker could feel through the bond that Sides wasn't quite as confident as he looked, but he didn't want to look like a complete wimp in front of Chromia. The bodyguard was currently regarding them both as if they were some kind of strange sideshow.

"Thanks, bro," Sideswipe breathed, squeezing Sunstreaker's hand one last time.

Elita laid a gentle hand to Sunstreaker's shoulder. "Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah, I guess." Turning, Sunstreaker made his way along the walkway to the gates at the front of the coliseum. Elita walked at his shoulder, and Chromia was not far behind them, tugging along Sunstreaker's stuff. It took nearly everything Sunstreaker had not to look back over his shoulder like a wimp, but when he got to the street, he couldn't help one last glance at the only home he'd ever known. Sideswipe had run around the building to stand at the front doors, which were now open and overly full of the brightly painted bodies of his family. Even Flip had come out for one last goodbye, though he was a distant figure on one of the roofs. Sunstreaker gave them all a wave before transforming and easing out onto the street, immediately turning in the direction of the transit terminal. Elita was close behind him, with Chromia hot on their exhaust trails.

* * *

Sideswipe sniffed quietly. "I miss him already."

"So do I," Wildride sighed.

Blindside didn't say anything, he just broke out into loud sobs.

"Well, I'm sad that Sunstreaker's gone and all, but this is a little embarrassing," Flashdance pointed out. "We have bots staring at us."

It was true. Just beyond the gate to the property, a small gathering of bots peered up at them with wide optics. Most of them had gathered to get one last look at Sunstreaker before he left for his apprenticeship, while others had shown up to catch a glimpse of the ever-elusive Elita One. Now they were all standing there, staring at Blindside bawling.

"I think we should move inside now," Blaze said lowly, laying his large hands to Blindside's shoulders and gently guided the mech into the building. The rest of the extended troupe came in after them, their expressions solemn.

Wildride took over handling his sparkmate, wrapping him close in his arms. "It's been a long night partying and a hard morning for us all. I think we should head back to the dorms and get some recharge. We can clear our minds and slag like that."

"Recharge would be nice," Flicker said quietly.

"Yes, it would be nice, wouldn't it?" Flip suddenly intoned, coming around the corner at an easy pace. "Too bad you won't be getting any until later tonight."

Several exclamations rang off the walls. Some of them were in reference to Flip's new frame, but most of them were whining about the unfairness of the world. As expected, Flip was unfazed by the cursing, complaining, and whining. He waved them into silence.

"The best thing to keep our minds off the matter is to get to work. We have a new apprentice to train and a show coming up soon that I would like to see him perform in. There's no time like the present to get started on what must be done."

Sideswipe didn't feel much like going back into recharge, so he agreed readily with beginning training. He wanted something to take his mind off the twinge in his spark. Every stray thought brought him back to the sensation of distance that kept growing between him and his brother. It wasn't uncomfortable yet, but he was aware of it. It made him unreasonably sad again, making him want to cry like his creator.

"You know... if everyone is too tired to train, I could just work with Flip today," Sideswipe offered carefully, not sure if something like that was allowed. He had never actually seen Flip do anything for the show other than run it. As far as Sideswipe knew, Flip had never performed before.

Wildride straightened up. "No, it's okay, Sides. You're my apprentice now, so I'm responsible for you." He turned to Flip, offering a tired smile. "Give us a couple breems to get some energon into us and we should be fine."

"A couple of breems, then," Flip allowed with an inclination of his head. "I'll be waiting for you in the arena."

As soon as he was out of sight, Blaze let loose a long, low whistle. "Been a while since I've seen him in that frame."

"I've never seen him like that before," Flashdance intoned.

Blaze shrugged. "I was nothing but a youngling last time I saw him like that. It's a huge blast from the past, seriously."

Blindside gathered himself together, done with crying. "He must have wanted some comfort in his old frame."

Flashdance was not at all impressed. "He looks weird like that. Four legs is way too many to have."

Thrillride smacked the dancer around the legs, as she was wont to do when he was being an idiot. "It's Centaurie Tetrax's traditional frame type, you half-bit," she informed. "Why else do you think the territory is called what it is?"

"Um, because someone had a stupid idea and chose a stupid name for it?"

"That's what we think about your designation, but we don't say anything about it," Sideswipe teased, making everyone laugh.

"Runt," Flashdance grunted, giving him a light punch on the shoulder.

"I'd be careful if I were you," warned the red bot. "I might purge on you again."

Taking the warning seriously, Flashdance backed up a step.

Thrillride rolled her optics. "Centauron is said to be the member of the Original 13 who looks after this territory. Legend has it that he has a centaurian frame, hence the name Centaurie."

Sideswipe did his best to keep tension out of his frame. He figured that he was one of the very few bots in all the territory that could confirm, without a doubt, that Centauron definitely had a centaurian frame. He was not inclined to let anyone else in on the secret.

Flashdance huffed. "What about Tetrax?"

"Centaurs have four legs," Thrillride shrugged. "Tetra means four, so Tetrax just makes sense like that."

"The name is still stupid," Flashdance grumbled.

Distracted by the hustle and bustle of morning preparations, Sideswipe didn't have time to think much about Centaurie Tetrax, Centuaron, and most of all, _Sunstreaker_. His so-called "new life" swept him up in the newness of every experience- things were louder, brighter, more detailed. Life in High Definition. But it wasn't just that. He was treated differently now, making his mind race to keep up with the differences. His family was not as gentle with him as they were before. He was big enough now for them to give him playful shoves and scrub their knuckles into the top of his head when they were teasing him. They weren't as careful with their words anymore, either. He heard a lot more swearing out of everyone's mouthplates, on top of topics being discussed that he knew for a fact that none of them would have dared talk about while he was still considered a youngling. It was different, but different in a way that he liked. He had to get used to it, sure, but he had a feeling that he was going to enjoy the more relaxed atmosphere of _really_ being a part of the troupe, being a performer just like everyone else, instead of just a youngling standing on the sidelines.

Wildride nudged him with his elbow. "I'm not going to go easy on you, I hope you know. You're still my creation, but now you're also my apprentice. I'm going to push you about as far as you can go, and then I'm going to push you farther. The life of a stuntbot isn't easy."

"I know. I've been here my entire life," Sideswipe replied, wrinkling his olfactory sensor. "I think I know what it's like."

"Yeah, but you've never had to chance to _really_ be one of us until now," replied his mentor. "It's harder than it looks. No more silly somersaults. You're going to be driving hard, pushing your frame to its limits. You're also going to land on your head. A lot."

Sideswipe took a moment to finish off the cube of energon he'd been given. He dropped the cube down on the table with a determined clack. "I'm ready for whatever you throw at me."

Wildride cast a wry smile. "Let's see what you got, then."

Most of the troupe separated for their own routines to work on. Wildride and Sideswipe were given their own space to work on their stuff. Sideswipe got a tour of the coliseum, which he thought was quite stupid at first. He knew the coliseum. It soon became apparent with Wildride's tour that the things he thought he understood as a youngling were not quite the same understanding he required to be an adult, or functioning stunt bot.

As a youngling, he had known where each place in the arena existed and the basic idea of what it was used for, but now he had to know the exact names and the exact things that went on there. Every backstage corridor had a reason for being there, every room stuffed with specific equipment and tools. Explosives that he had never been allowed to touch before, he was ordered to pick up and move around. Wires and thick cables that he had always avoided, he was now required to know where each cable was connected to the wall and which piece of equipment it powered. The catwalks over the arena were open to him now. He had to walk every single one, inspecting the ground from his superior height to see how the world looked from each new spot. Wildride then took him to the very spot where Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had fallen off on the very orn of their creation. Even though the older bot laughed about it, Sideswipe saw the past fear light up behind his optics. Even Sideswipe himself felt the lingering thrill from the fall pulse through his energon.

On the ground again, Wildride went about explaining the many different parts on Sideswipe's frame that he did not have before. A part of his youngling downloads had been basic files on Cybertronian anatomy, but only in its most general form since their anatomy could vary wildly between so many different frame models. Wildride was doing his best in educating Sideswipe in the specialities of a performer's frame. There were many, many specialities he now had that a general frame for the public would not have. Whereas his youngling frame had not been very flexible, he was very flexible now. He had access to the tension wires in his frame, able to adjust the tension to make himself more rigid or more fluid. His joints were built in a way that he could bend them the opposite way if a trick required it. Extra folds of metal around his joints allowed him the freedom of a wide range of movements. His reflexes were much faster. Inside his frame was an in-built stabilizer that would give him a near-perfect sense of equilibrium... as soon as he learned to use it properly. He could force transformations, or simply transform parts of himself. He had extra coolant systems, bigger vents, and more fans to help keep his systems cools while he worked. The new-found strength in his frame delighted him the most. Objects that had always been too big and heavy for him before could now be picked up with ease.

Once Wildride was sure Sideswipe understood the differences of his new frame compared to his old one, he began doing physical work. It was mostly stretching and driving to loosen up the stiff tension wires and get lubricants evenly distributed throughout the frame. The movements helped him understand his new frame's dimensions. How long his arms really were, or how long his legs were; how tall he was in comparison to the world around him, how wide his shoulders were so as not to bump into someone next to him. He had to figure out how far his chest and back jutted out so he didn't bump into anyone in front of him or behind him. Even in alt mode, he had a lot of figuring out to do.

However, it was frustrating to find that some of the movements he had learned as a youngling he had to relearn them in his new frame. He kept falling over if he tried a cartwheel or a somersault. The couple of flips he tried, he ended up on his head.

"You're trying too hard," Wildride pointed out. "Stop thinking about who you used to be. Figure out how your new frame moves now."

Yeah, nice piece of advice. Sideswipe landed on his head three more times.

"Is it okay that I'm seeing three of everything?" wondered the red mech, laying on his back as he stared up into three different version of his creator.

"Yeah, sure," Wildride said. "If you weren't see three of everything after that last hit, I'd think there was something wrong with you." He offered his hand to help Sideswipe up, but Sideswipe chose the wrong hand, gripping nothing but air. He fell back to the ground with a thump.

"Always choose the middle one!" Flashdance yelled from across the arena.

Taking the advice, Sideswipe reached up again and grasped the middle Wildride's hand. It was solid. He was hauled to his feet and patted on the back.

"You're better at this than some bots are on their first orn," said the mech. "You should be proud of how quickly you're adapting to your new frame."

"Seriously? I'd really hate to see someone who sucked at this," Sideswipe grumbled, rubbing his aching head.

"If you want to, I'll show you some holovids of Blindside when he first started out. You'll never question your own abilities ever again," Wildride laughed.

"I heard that!" Blindside shouted.

Wildride ducked his head, grinning.

Sideswipe laughed too, though the noise trailed off. A wave of dizziness hit him, causing him to stumble to the side. Luckily, he was still close enough to Wildride to be caught by the mech. He felt an arm loop under his own arms, keeping him on his feet while the world appeared to be tilted to the left. He was vaguely aware of his hands moving on their own, covering his chest as if to keep his spark inside.

"Whoa there, one too many bonks to the head today, Sides?" Wildride asked, helping Sideswipe to sit down.

"No," Sideswipe grunted. "I think it's my spark."

"Ah." Wildride immediately waved Flip over to inspect the downed bot.

The director came trotting over without a word, bending his legs and tucking them beneath him so that he rested on the ground in front of the red bot. If Sideswipe wasn't currently dealing with his own little issue, he would have loved to have stopped and stared at the whole thing. Flashdance was right- four was just _too many_ legs. Flip didn't seem to mind, his steady gaze roving the length of Sideswipe's frame. "Sunstreaker must have flown out of your comfort range by now." Long-fingered hands reached out, turning Sideswipe's faceplate one way and then the other. "What do you feel? Is it just a tugging?"

"Just tugging," Sideswipe confirmed. "It's not the worst I've ever felt."

Flip arched an optic ridge.

"It just took me by surprise, is all," Sideswipe insisted. He knew his spark was unusual and everyone wanted to make sure he was okay, but he didn't like the extra attention when most of it was out of sympathy or worry, not laughter. He liked it when he knew he could make bots laugh, not get them all antsy. So while Flip stared at him with unrelenting optics, he ducked his head and pouted. "I wasn't paying attention to how far Sunstreaker was getting, so it kind of hit me hard when we got to our limit."

"Are you in pain?" Flip asked.

"No," Sideswipe grunted stubbornly.

Flip looked up to the many faceplates that had gathered close. "He is."

Sideswipe groaned.

Wildride made a face, wrinkling his olfactory sensor. "All right, then we'll just cut your training off for today until you get adjusted."

Sideswipe's head shot up. "No! I can do this! I can still work!" He struggled to his feet, but stumbled again.

"There's no point in going on if all you're going to do is fall on your faceplate more than you already do," Wildride said, taking Sideswipe under the arms and heaving him into a steady position. Out of worry, he propped the younger bot against his side, keeping him there with a strong arm. "I know I said I'd push you hard, but this is something you can't help."

"It's is embarrassing, though," Sideswipe mumbled.

"Deal with it, little one. It's all a part of who you are." With that, Wildride gave a nod to the others and helped Sideswipe away.

* * *

Sunstreaker came online with a jolt, hands flying to his chest. Next to him, Elita gasped in surprise, startled from whatever she had been doing. Ignoring her, Sunstreaker moved on instinct. He curled up in his seat, feeling a wave of dizziness pass over him.

Elita was instantly on him, trying to pry his arms away from his frame. "Sunstreaker? Sunny, what's wrong?"

"Spark," he grunted.

"Oh, your bond!" exclaimed the femme in a low voice. "I completely forgot about what it might do to you. Goodness, we're above Axiom Nexus now- this must be as far as your bond allows."

Someone came around the side of Sunstreaker's seat, crouching down in the aisle of the aircraft they were flying on. A dusky blue hand curled under his chin, lifting his head up. He met Chromia's hard stare, then looked away. She didn't have any judgement in her optics, but Sunstreaker definitely didn't want to appear weak in front of such a powerful creature. Her hand released his chin to slide lower, her palm pressing into his chest. An instant later, he was hit with a low-grade magnetic pulse. The intense tugging in his chest resided into a dull feeling he could handle. His frame uncurled, tension leaching away.

"Feel better?" Chromia asked.

"Yes, thank you," Sunstreaker replied on a sigh.

With a grunt, Chromia returned to the seat behind them.

Sunstreaker cast his gaze to Elita, the only other bot on the aircraft he was willing to look at. He knew with his sudden reaction that he had probably gained the attention of every bot on the ship. If there had been any noise before, it was deathly silent now. The combined stares of every passenger prickled down the back of his head like itchy lasers. Elita, on the other hand, was not outright staring at him. Instead, her gaze was much lighter. She probably understood what had happened to him and was sympathetic of the feeling.

"Chromia's handy to have around in a crisis," the femme said lightly.

Sunstreaker nodded shakily.

"I don't know what I'd do without her," Elita said fondly. There was definitely something more affectionate in Elita's tone than simply an official relationship between guard and charge. They were most likely friends, as well.

Sunstreaker sat up a little straighter. "Um, yeah, whatever she did really helped."

Elita pressed her own hand to the spot that Chromia had laid her hand to. "Magnetism- just a little magnetic pulse," she said, able to feel the lingering field on Sunstreaker's metal. "It's good for more than just, um... recreational means. Helps with tension." She glanced at Sunstreaker, unsure how experienced he might be with the recreational uses of magnetic pulses.

Sunstreaker nodded, glad that Bluestreak had taught him a thing or two the night before so that he was not entirely ignorant of the matter. Magnetic pulses for recreational means were very nice indeed, and as he just discovered, they could be therapeutic as well.

"How do you feel now?" Elita asked, still running the tips of her fingers over his plating.

"I'm okay. There's still a bit of tugging, but it's not so bad anymore," Sunstreaker replied quietly. He felt Sideswipe, who seemed to be having a rougher time about it, or else he was just being really grumpy about it.

Elita smiled, nodding. "Chromia used to do the same thing for me when Optimus and I had to be apart after we bonded. Separation can be intense until your sparks get used to the distance."

"How did she know what to do?" Sunstreaker asked, glancing back briefly to where he knew the other femme was lurking behind the seat.

Elita laughed, a light sound like bells tinkling. "Chromia? Oh, she's older than most things you'll ever meet. She's picked up a few tricks along the way."

"Oh." Sunstreaker shifted in his seat self-consciously, aware that he was still being stared at by everyone. He felt the fins on the sides of his head drop, wiggling gently. "Um... how much longer is it to Iacon?"

"Couple of joors," Chromia announced.

"Just relax until we get there, dear spark," Elita said softly. "Your apartments are all set up, so as soon as we get there, you can lay down. We can call a medic to meet us at the terminal, if you want."

Sunstreaker shook his head, revving quietly. "No, thank you. You don't have to go to the trouble."

"No trouble at all," Elita replied.

A couple of joors passed by with discomfort, but Sunstreaker handled it mostly in silence. He didn't want to bother his new mentor with his troubles. Elita, nevertheless, empathized with him. She kept her hand over his for the rest of the flight, a low-grade magnetic pulse radiating from her warm palm. It kept Sunny calm and centered, able to think past the increasing pressure in his sparkcase. To further distract him, Elita went about describing her home in detail, using a quiet tone that would not bother the rest of the bots on board. She described Iacon, the differences from Centaurie Tetrax, the Crystal Spires where she lived and worked. She described what she wanted to show Sunstreaker, what she wanted to teach him. There were also playful warnings mixed into the words- "Don't mind Megatron when he tries to tease you. He can be an idiot, but he has a good spark." "Don't let Ironhide try to bully you into doing anything you don't want to- like going down to the firing range." "Don't feel intimidated with anything you might see or hear around the Spires. You're my apprentice now, so you outrank _everyone- _well, except for me and Optimus, but you get my point."

When the aircraft started to dock at the allotted terminal in Iacon's capitol, Sunstreaker all but sighed with relief.

"Dear Primus," Chromia groaned at length as she peered out the window.

Elita immediately spun around. "Oh no, what have they done now?"

"You can't miss them," Chromia replied on a sigh. _"Unfortunately."_

True enough, it appeared that Optimus Prime, Lord Megatron, and Protectorate Ironhide had shirked their duties to be present for the momentous occasion when Sunstreaker docked in Iacon. They stood out in the open on the large landing strip atop the terminal building, the light of evening setting in around them. Despite the waning light, the three large figures were hard to miss among the smaller, slighter frames of civilians. In this instance, it appeared that they had forgotten their own ranks as they shuffled amongst each other, looking to be in good moods as they spoke to each other. Ironhide was the only one who minded the many optics staring at them.

"Let me see," Sunstreaker said, clamouring over Elita's seat to peer out the window. And then he saw them. "...oh, wow."

Megatron was holding up a large sign with Sunstreaker's designation painted on it. Or, at least, Sunstreaker assumed that it was supposed to be his designation, because the writing was so bad that he could barely make it out at a distance. Despite the horrendous nature of the writing, the Lord Protector of Cybertron looked happy to hoist it up high for the airship despite the numerous giggles he was getting from bots passing around him. Though, the sign was not necessarily the worst part of the scene. Truly, it might have been the yellow paint that all three bots had coated themselves with that made Sunstreaker and several others stare incredulously. None of the three wore matching yellow, either. It was all different shades for each of them. Megatron, being the largest, appeared to be wearing two different shades of yellow just for himself. They must have meant it as a way to welcome Sunstreaker to his new home, but all Sunstreaker could really think of was wishing that he was invisible so no one would figure out he was with them.

"This is going to be all over the media," Elita sighed, face-palming.

"How in the pit did they manage to get the yellow on Ironhide? I suppose he lost a bet or something. It's such a horrible colour on him," Chromia grumbled, throwing together Sunstreaker's three cases of luggage that had sat on the seat next to her rather than be packed away in the carry hold.

"Do they, um... normally do things like this?" Sunstreaker wondered cautiously. Even though he had only had the opportunity to meet the Prime and his entourage a few times, he had gotten the feeling that they not always the kind of bots who followed rank and rule. This instance seemed to prove his point. Now he only wondered what it would be like to live with them.

"Only when they can get away with it, which is more often than anyone would care to admit," Elita said, taking hold of Sunstreaker's thin elbow and guiding him into the aisle of the aircraft. "Do you feel well enough to walk?"

"Uh-huh," Sunstreaker murmured, doing his best to weave around other bots disembarking.

As soon as they were out the hatch, Megatron's efforts with his sign became more pronounced. Optimus looked up and met his sparkmate's gaze, and then started waving them over. Ironhide looked like he wanted to crawl under the nearest rock, though did raise his hand in a half-sparked wave.

The first thing out of Chromia's mouthplates as soon as they were within hearing distance was directed toward the Lord Protector. "Your writing is still atrocious."

Megatron dropped his sign and spun it around, inspecting his handiwork. "What are you talking about? I spellchecked it and everything." He looked down at Sunstreaker and smiled, the gesture full of sharp angles and pointed bits of metal. It should have made him look intimidating, but Sunstreaker decided no one could look intimidating while wearing those particular shades of yellow. "Just thought we'd give you a proper _welcome to the family_. Something to get your attention, you know?"

Sunstreaker stuttered something incomprehensible.

"It got his attention, all right," Chromia grumbled, then jerked her thumb at the small crowd taking pictures. "Got their attention, too."

Optimus cast his gaze to the crowd, nodding to them in a regal gesture that was completely out of place with how silly he looked. "Let them gawk. Just because I'm yellow doesn't mean I'm not still the Prime."

"That's the unfortunate part," Chromia snorted, handing her trolly over to Ironhide, who didn't complain as he took the burden. "We're out of here before someone tries to assassinate the whole lot of you." She looked like she wanted to be the first in line for the assassination.

"Good point," Megatron drawled, pointing a long, sharp finger into Sunstreaker's side. "This one's too thin to take a hit."

"I'm not too thin," Sunstreaker pouted.

"No, you're not," Elita defended, taking up Sunstreaker's arm and threading it through her own. "You're perfect just the way you are. Unlike some bots I know, who could do with some improvements." She stared at Megatron out of the corner of her optic.

"I'm made of awesome, femme," the Lord Protector huffed.

"And I always thought that was called arrogance," Optimus Prime drawled.

Ironhide revved deeply, starting to herd them along with help from his mate. The two of them didn't appear to like crowded places too much. Their optics got all cagey and their frames were tense. Sunstreaker's figured it was because they were guardians to two of the most important bots on Cybertron.

"I hope we're not driving back to the Crystal Spires," Elita intoned, keeping a firm grip on her apprentice to make sure he didn't stumble or get lost. Sunstreaker had just as firm a grip on her.

"Nah, I got us a ship," Megatron said. "It's docked a couple levels down."

"Good, because I don't think Sunny is up for driving right now," Elita replied.

Optimus cast the little mech a measuring stare. "Is everything all right?"

Sunstreaker looked at his feet, feeling silly and embarrassed. "Just my spark, sir. It's okay, really. I can deal with it." He suddenly felt a warm hand on his head, patting him gently.

"You and Sideswipe are like sparkmates, yes?" Optimus said quietly.

All six of them squeezed into one large lift to take them down to the personal docking level where Megatron had parked their ride.

Sunstreaker shuffled in the enclosed space. "Yeah, like sparkmates."

"We'll have to give you a few orns to adjust, then. If you need anything, just say the word and it will be delivered to you," said the Prime, his deep voice resonating in the confined space of the lift.

Sunstreaker peered up at the Prime, taking in the yellow paint he was covered in. It was an uneven coat, splotchy so that his original red and blue paint came through in some places. The shade itself was nice enough, not the gaudy colours the Lord Protector was wearing, though the colour still did the Prime no justice. "Did you really paint yourself for me?"

The Prime stared down at his splotchy arm for a moment. "Seems a little silly now that I've had a chance to think about it."

"It is silly, but I think I like it." Sunstreaker offered a smile. "It's something like my family would have done."

This announcement seemed to please Optimus, Megatron, and Ironhide.

Chromia gave the golden bot a light punch on the shoulder. "If you thought you were going to get away from the insanity of your family when you came here, think again."

"We're not _that_ bad," Elita countered ruefully.

The door to the lift dinged open, admitting them into a large docking bay where small to medium-sized ships meant for personal use were lined along the walls. Megatron led the way to a very impressive looking sporty ship, its shiny black paint and sharp angles making it look like a serpentine beast. It was small, though. Fast, but only able to seat a few passengers. Sunstreaker was fascinated by the ship, having never been inside something like it. No one in the troupe owned something like this.

"I call her _My Precious_," Megatron announced, rubbing his hands together.

Sunstreaker stared between the ship called _My Precious _and the new group of bots who were to become his family during his apprenticeship. He rubbed his chest as his spark gave a numbing throb. In that moment, he had the distinct feeling that Chromia was more right than wrong- he didn't escape the craziness of one family, he just exchanged it for another.


	27. Chapter 19

Heh, it's strange how all my spin-off stories, like this one and _Where You and I Collide_, are all more popular than the main branch of stories they're connected to. Funny how life is like that. ^_^;

**Dragonrider2203**- Aww, thank you kindly, my dear. I do try to make this story as enjoyable as possible to read. ^_^ Haha, Megatron's cockiness is the best... it's just a shame that it doesn't last. .

**femme4jack**- D'awwwww, I'm so happy that you thought that chapter was so full of awesome! =D It's always a treat to hear that a reader appreciates the level of detail that I put into these stories; that's a constant worry for me, that I'm boring the pants off someone. XD I just want to get all those details in there, you know? It makes things more real~ =P Haha, you may enjoy reading this in conjunction with the main branch of this series, but it's no easy feat writing it. I'm happy you've found no contradictions yet; I try very hard to keep everything straight in my head. XD

**Kai-Chan94**- Laugh away, my friend. Laugh away! XD Thank you very much for reviewing. ^_^

**AutobotSyds643**- This Megatron here seems to make a lot of people laugh. =P He's such a great character, so it's such a shame that he has to turn evil later on. . You gotta enjoy this version of him while he lasts. =)

**Knocks-** Yep, _My Precious_. And you must look a little psychotic and rub your hands together every time you say it. XD

**animelover1993**- Heh, yeah, I watch Glee so I know the song. It does fit well with the tone of the beginning of the chapter. Thanks for the suggestion. ^_^ Obsessively-compulsively check to see if I updated? I'll take that as a compliment. XD I'll give you a hint, I usually update around Thursday/Friday/Saturday, so those are the best days to check (although don't quote me on that, because there are exceptions to every rule). =P

**Shizuka Taiyou**- You're right- poor Sunny and Sides. They get a pretty raw deal out of things. . Heh, yeah, if Megatron could marry _My Precious_, he would. XD

**KyuubiSango**- lol~ It's always wonderful to hear that a reader got through all the chapters and likes what they see. ^_^

**Daklog73**- My friend, i fully intend to keep this story going, but I don't always have time or inspiration to keep it going on a regular basis. Patience is a virtue, and reviews are inspiration. =P

**Faecat**- Ah, you're one of the only ones to comment on Flip's change into his 'old' frame; indeed, everyone should be quite nervous. When someone feels the need to slip into something a little more intimidating, everyone else should get their hackles up. O_o As for Megatron being made of awesome- it's true. Just ask him. That's not metal plating he has. It's _awesome_ plating.

**TransformerLover95**- D'awww, no matter how many times you happen to say how much you enjoy reading my work, I will always love hearing such things. A gal needs positive reinforcement once in a while, right? =P I'm happy that you have enjoyed this story and others; if you liked Optimus, Ironhide, Megatron, Chromia and Elita, you're in luck, because they'll be having a lot more screen time now. =P

**Tinna Minor**- I thought the fun had already begun! XD

**cmdrtekk**- Thank you very much, my dear. I'm glad you think so. ^_^

**yoong**- Haha, yeah, Sunstreaker's fins can wiggle on command. It's just one of the many cute things he can do. =P The story may end up focusing a little more on Sunny during his separation from Sides, but I will try my best to keep it even, since Sideswipe has his own changes to go through that I'm sure readers will want to see. ^_^

**Leonixon**- Hahaha, Megatron is such a funny character to write for in the story. It's a shame he turns out all evil in the end. .

**1bloodtempest**- "Sideswipe might still look like an idiot, but he's a loveable idiot." Woman, truer words have never been spoken! Honestly, that should be written on a t-shirt somewhere! XD As for Wildride's marker...yes, he knew it was permanent. It's tradition to vandalize all the newbies! 8D Oh, as for catching that head/hand mistake in the writing... yeah, I totally meant _head_. Thanks for pointing that out. ^_^ Megatron's writing is actually atrocious because he never downloaded a proper writing file; he was too stubborn as a youngling to do it. Optimus was forced to teach him the old fashioned way in secret before someone realized that Megatron was incapable of writing. Since he learned in such an unusual fashion, his writing style is noticeably peculiar. =)

**deathcomes4u**- lol~ Well, no matter if it was pivotal or transitional, I'm glad that you enjoyed it and left a review. Reviews are inspiration, so I was definitely inspired to continue. =P

**DitzyMusicLover**- Heh, yeah, I've seen Tangled, but I wasn't that impressed with it. ^_^; I'm happy you liked the chapter~ Thank you so much for reviewing. =)

**KiaMianara**- Hahahaha, too true. Only Megatron could get away with calling his ship _My Precious_. XD

**DarkRains824**- Wow, you read it straight through in 2 days? That's pretty dedicated! =D I'm flattered that the writing was able to give you a new perspective on the twins. That's definitely something I was aiming for. ^_^

Read, Review, & Enjoy~ ^_^

**Chapter 19**

Sunstreaker did not get much of a view of Iacon before they made it to the Crystal Spires in... _My Precious_. Megatron, as it turned out, was an exceptionally talented pilot who knew all the short cuts through the airways. As he flew, he exclaimed that his talent for flying came from the fact that he had a jet alt mode, granting him innate grace in the air. Paired with that grace was a sense of self-worth bloated to comical proportions. He also happened to be the kind of pilot who liked speed and daredevil tricks, which seemed an odd trait for someone who was the Lord Protector of an entire planet; wasn't someone who was responsible for the safety of two billion others be a little more cautious himself? Megatron was neither, at least in a personal sense... one could hope he was different in a professional setting. Every chance he got, he performed tricks through the air, always cleverly done in places least likely to get him caught by Security Response.

Sunstreaker clung to the straps of his seat, his vents heaving as the not-so-easy ride exacerbated the stress on his spark. Plus, fearing for his life did nothing to help him. With every sharp turn, he felt his tanks churn. A hard stop made his head throb. On either side of him were Elita One and Optimus Prime, who were accustomed to Megatron's haphazard flying skills and were much more able to handle the jarring experience. They kept their hands on Sunstreaker, weighting his light frame to his seat to prevent him from being jerked around worse than he already was.

In the carry hold beneath their feet, Sunstreaker could hear his luggage being tossed around.

_Thump-bump-bang-crash!_

He only hoped that all of his possessions came out of this experience in one piece.

Since _My Precious_ was a sporty ship only built for a few passengers, Chromia and Ironhide had opted to drive to the Crystal Spires. When they had first volunteered to take the long route, Sunstreaker had felt bad for them to be struck trundling on the long, twisted transit ways through the capitol city. It was the slower, less flashy way to travel. Now Sunstreaker was revising his earlier pity. Chromia and Ironhide got the better half of the deal.

The tinted windows that ran along the sides of the ship only gave a blurred view of metal passing by at high speeds. There were statues in some places, memorials, large open spaces that looked like courtyards and pavilions. The architecture of Iacon was different from Centaurie Tetrax, just as each territory held its own specific style. While the skyscrapers and spires were old like Kaon, it was far from the hauntingly dark designs of the sunken territory. The metal here was bright, light grey dotted with glittering crystalline windows. Most of the tallest buildings stretched up to the sky with decorative narrowed points that were each unique to the building they stood atop of. Needle-tipped points, curling ones, ones made like pyramids, and others that looked delicate like spiderwebs. It was the very end of evening, more dark than light now, so the glittering white lights of the city were on, lighting up every corner and reflecting off of every shiny surface.

"Hitting the Prime Plaza now," Megatron announced.

"Not literally, I hope," Elita One muttered.

_My Precious_ slowed down accordingly as they came upon a hovering station. Lights lit up along the sides as sensors on the platform detected an approaching ship. There was a small hut-like structure built on the platform, windows all around it so that those inside could see outside in all directions. Two hovercycles were leaned up against the outside, while four bots inside the building stood up and made their way outside. Two of them bore the insignia for the Autobots, and the other two were Iaconian Security Response. One Autobot and one Security officer were flight capable, so they jumped off the side of the hovering platform and flew over to _My Precious_. The other two mounted the hovercycles and came over.

Sunstreaker relaxed into his seat, glad for an opportunity to catch his barrings.

The four bots circling _My Precious_ seemed to recognize the ship. They laughed and jostled each other as they flew close, though one of them appeared to be in charge. He was a very handsome Seeker with black paint accented with electric blue. On his shoulder was the insignia of the Autobots. With a wave of his hand, he sent the other three on to inspect the ship to ensure that nothing dangerous was coming into the Plaza. With that done, he flew close to one of the side windows on _My Precious_ and knocked politely.

"Have a nice flight, my lord?" asked the handsome Seeker, transmitting through the speakers in the ship. His voice was just like he looked- _handsome_. He did not look at all fazed to see the pilot of the ship, the Lord Protector of Cybertron, slathered in a ridiculous coat of yellow paint.

"I wasn't stopped by Security Response, so I'd say so," Megatron laughed. "Managed to keep everyone in one piece, too."

"Everyone will be happy to hear that you managed to keep the Prime and Elita One alive," replied the flier.

Sunstreaker became aware of a light tapping on one of the windows on the opposite side of the ship. Elita One laughed quietly, poking him in the arm and pointing him in the right direction. The three bots that had been sent on to inspect the ship were now gathered at the window, crammed close in order to see inside. They started waving when they realized they finally had Sunstreaker's attention. Sunstreaker offered a weak smile and waved back to them. Pleased with their cheekiness, the two officers and one Autobot flew off to complete their inspection of the ship.

Optimus leaned down to be near Sunstreaker's audio. "You just made their orn."

Sunstreaker blinked. "Did I?"

"Oh yes," assured the Prime.

"Plaza duty is something most bots around here dread," Elita intoned good-naturedly. "It's terribly boring, and they see Optimus and I coming and going so often that we're no excitement for them. To see one of the twins, though- they'll be bragging about it for orns."

Sunstreaker twittered quietly, looking down at his hands.

Soon enough, the inspection was done and _My Precious_ was cleared to enter the Prime Plaza.

"Alright, everything checks out. You can go on in, my lord," said the Autobot who had been chatting with the Lord Protector the whole time.

"Keep up the good work, Thundercracker," Megatron said, easing _My Precious_ into a gentle flight through the Plaza.

The differences from the business of the city around them and the calm center of the Plaza were astounding. There were only a few small ships floating around, and between them flew transformers on hovercycles or on their own wings. The grounds themselves were mostly flat, painted in bright designs depicting mythological pasts or Primes who have come and gone. There were also statues and memorials, like the city, but these ones appeared much larger and better taken care of. In the very center of the Plaza were the most astounding spires Sunstreaker had ever seen. They were of crystal and gold, white tungsten for the walls, bright green jade and stunning lapis lazuli blue accenting the corners. Silver and gold lattice worked its way up decoratively, and in between were mosaics pieces together by glittering jewels from every alien planet imaginable, creating a bejewelled landscape of colours- sapphires, rubies, emeralds, opals, pearl, amethyst, tiger's eye... all the colours of the gemstone rainbow.

The effect should have been dulled by the night, but Sunstreaker was still enthralled by it.

"That's your new home," Elita murmured quietly into his audio.

"I've seen pictures, but it's more beautiful in person," Sunstreaker whispered back.

"Most things in life are," Elita replied.

Megatron flew _My Precious_ around to the back, where the ground groaned and opened up, revealed a hatch for the ship to fly into. He docked with ease, shutting down the engines and standing from his seat with a stretch. Several flakes of yellow paint fluttered off him. "Good night for flying, eh? Airways weren't too busy."

"Mostly because everyone else was trying to get out of your way," Optimus intoned wryly.

Sunstreaker unstrapped, one hand to his chest as he rose and carefully made his way to the hatch. His spark still hurt, but no more than it did at the terminal. He had the advantage of being given regular magnetic bursts from Elita and Optimus. He could only hope that Sideswipe was being given the same treatment. Did the troupe even know about using magnetic pulses like that? Hopefully they did.

Elita's gentle hand came around his elbow, guiding him down the ramp. "I'll show you to your apartments, all right? Your stuff will be brought up later."

"Okay," replied Sunstreaker, finding himself unreasonably exhausted on top of being sore.

Optimus and Megatron disembarked after Elita and Sunstreaker, in no rush to get into the Crystal Spires. They wanted to delay the return to duty for as long as possible. Taking the time to linger, they watched Elita dote on her new apprentice. She appeared exceptionally excited to have him home, keeping his arm threaded through hers as she guided him to the lift that would take them up. For several vorns now, Elita One had become increasingly worn down by the stress of being the Prime's sparkmate. To see her now, life had returned to her optics, her smile bright and alive. She was _happy_.

The Prime leaned toward his younger brother and nudged him with his elbow. "What do you think of him?"

Megatron considered his brother's sparkmate with her new apprentice. Having met Sunstreaker on several occasions in the past, he had an idea of the bot but didn't know him on a personal level. With a shrug, he said, "He seems quiet."

"Only because he's adjusting to his new home," Optimus said with a shake of his head. "What do you think of him for Elita?"

A smile curved the sides of the Lord Protector's mouthplates. "He'll be a good apprentice for her- he's smart, doesn't seem like a troublemaker, and has some talent. She obviously likes him, and there's no doubt in my mind that Sunstreaker adores her. They'll learn from each other, I think."

The Prime nodded. "Good. That's all I could have asked for."

* * *

Sunstreaker, upon being shown his new rooms, only garnered a vague impression of four walls before he found the nearest flat surface and passed out on it. Elita was kind enough to turn the lights out and close the door for him.

He recharged straight through the night, though it was fitful recharge that had him waking several times. The discomfort in his spark prevented him from staying under for too long. One moment, he would be laying in oblivion, his frame heavy and his mind elsewhere, and the next he would be online again, trying to find a comfortable position that would let him recharge for longer than a joor. At one point during the night, his processor cycled through an odd memory that might have been called a nightmare, though it was not particularly scary, just the vague impression of amber optics watching him... And then he knew nothing more than a deep, peaceful recharge.

It was not until noon the next orn when he came online next. He was sore, disorientated, and found that his hand immediately went out to start searching for Sideswipe. When he remembered that Sideswipe would not be near, he stopped, shaking his head. Some habits were harder to break than others. Looking down, Sunstreaker was pleased to find that he had managed to pass out on a berth rather than the floor. It was a really nice berth, too- one of the fancy ones that had a polymer cover that was all shiny and had a bit more give in it than plain metal berths. Casting his optics around to better understand his surroundings, Sunstreaker noted that the room was medium sized with plain walls of white tungsten veined in silver and gold, and crystalline windows granting him a stunning view of the Prime Plaza.

Sliding to the edge of the berth, Sunstreaker got to his feet and kept his hand to the wall to steady himself. His frame felt shaky. He didn't trust himself to move without falling. He made it to the door and came into a larger room whose entire wall was comprised of tall windows letting in a maximum amount of light. In the corner was a small set of furniture arranged with no due care, so Sunstreaker supposed that he was meant to arrange the pieces as he saw fit. There was an energon dispenser set into one of the walls, and by the doors that led out of his apartment was his luggage stacked neatly. Next to the door he just exited was another door. Upon opening it, Sunstreaker discovered wash racks built for one, which was a curious sight to him. He was accustomed to wash racks being a communal activity... After inspecting the amenities, he wrinkled his olfactory sensors at it and decided to find out if there were communal wash racks in the Crystal Spires. Washing alone didn't seem as fun as having company to talk to.

Backing out of the wash racks, Sunstreaker took another look around, lingering at the windows to bask in the warm light. Looking out over the Prime Plaza, he was struck by how surreal the whole situation was. He was standing in the Crystal Spires, a place that most bots could only dream about. All around him was the splendour of the Prime Plaza, and every bot he saw was among some of the most powerful and influential in the world. His mentor was the Prime's sparkmate. He would be meeting with the Prime on a regular basis. The Prime of Cybertron, the Lord Protector... they were all basically his _family_ now. The more he thought about it, the more impossible the whole thing seemed to get. It was more like a dream than anything. He understood that he was one half of the famous spark-split twin duo, and that garnered a certain amount of fascination and fame, but he had never really felt above the station in life in which the rest of his family lived. They were celebrities, but only the local kind. They weren't rich, didn't have a lot of power, and weren't prone to meeting particularly powerful bots other than to perform for them during conferences or banquets. He was from a stunt troupe, plain and simple; they were glamourous, but would never be on the same level as the Prime. They'd never be close to even a lord or council member.

And yet here he was, _Sunstreaker _of the Centaurie Tetrax stunt troupe, standing in the Crystal Spires as the apprentice to Elita One.

With a sigh and a shake of his head, he turned away from the window and went back to exploring his apartments. The walls were panelled; with a single command, Sunstreaker could move around the metal panels to reveal the hidden amenities beneath. Mostly shelves, but there was also a large screen to watch media on, and a communications station for him to call friends and family.

Deciding to make good use of the communications- and hoping that long distance calls weren't a problem- Sunstreaker tapped in the necessary codes and hoped his family would answer. He kept in mind that there was a time difference between the two territories, so it was probably late noon in Centaurie Tetrax and the troupe would most likely be practising. To his surprise, not even three astroseconds passed before the screen lit up, the speakers crackling to life as Skyfly's and Clouddrift's happy exclamations drifted through.

"_You took forever to call!"_ shouted one pastel aerial.

"_We thought you died!"_ cried the other.

"I'm not dead, but I'm sorry I took so long to call. I just came online," Sunstreaker smiled and laughed at them, wishing that he could be there in person to poke and tease them. In the background, he could see others lingering, waving and smiling for him. A sneaking suspicion came to him that several bots might have been loitering around waiting for him to call.

"_How was the flight?"_ Clouddrift wondered.

"_See anyone cute?" _Skyfly asked.

Any drama the two of them might have been stirring up moments ago was completely forgotten by now.

"It was a good flight," Sunstreaker replied. "You'll never guess how the Prime and the others showed up at the terminal looking like. It'll be all over the news, so be sure to watch it, 'kay? It'll give everyone a good laugh."

"_Sure,_" they chirped happily.

"And no, I didn't see anyone cuter than me during the flight," Sunstreaker added.

"_Ego, ego," _Skyfly _tsk'd_ playfully.

"It's not ego if it's true," Sunstreaker twittered. "Is Sideswipe there? I was hoping to talk to him before I went out."

The aerials glanced at each other, their shoulders drooping.

"_Yeah, but he's not doing so well, I don't think,"_ Clouddrift sighed.

Sunstreaker's spark froze. "What?"

"_Just been having a hard go of it, you know? Spark thing and all,"_ elaborated the bot. _"He's staying in Blindside and Wildride's room. I'll patch you through." _

The screen went blank for a moment, and then Sideswipe's strained faceplate came into focus. For a moment, Sunstreaker could truly see the strain that Sideswipe was under, and in his spark he felt the distress of his other half. The moment Sideswipe saw Sunstreaker, his optics lit up and his smile turned brilliant. The pain was still there, but he did his best to hide it.

"_Been missing you something bad,"_ said the red twin.

"Been missing you too," Sunstreaker replied with the utmost honesty, tapping his chest.

Sideswipe looked him up and down, inspecting everything he could see through the screen on his side. "_You don't look like you've been having a hard go of it."_ He sounded a bit put off.

"I got treated with magnetic pulses," Sunstreaker replied, his spark breaking with the knowledge that Sideswipe had not gotten the same treatment. "Get someone to do it to you, okay? Just small pulses right over the spark and the worst of the pulling goes away."

"_I'll get Wildride to do it,"_ said the red mech. He watched his brother carefully. _"Is Iacon nice?" _

Sunstreaker nodded emphatically. "It's gorgeous. I haven't gone exploring yet, but what I saw last night was so beautiful. I can't believe we went through this place when we were created, and we don't remember any of it."

Sideswipe chuckled, but the sound was a little hoarse. "_How come you haven't gone exploring yet?" _

"I just came online," Sunstreaker shrugged. "Plus, I needed to see you first."

"_I was hoping all orn that you'd call,_" Sideswipe admitted. "_I wanted to see you, too." _

They stared at each other, finding that they really didn't need anymore words to say. They might not have been close physically, and their sparks were hard to feel at the moment, but they just knew each other anyways. They smiled, hands going out at the same time to touch the screens, their palms laying against each other. It wasn't that they needed a long, drawn out spark-to-spark conversation with each other. They just needed the connection of seeing the other and hearing their voice, if even only for a breem.

"I hope you feel better soon," Sunstreaker said softly.

"_I feel better already,_" Sideswipe replied.

The call ended with fond goodbyes and promises to call again soon.

Feeling better, his spark not hurting so much anymore, Sunstreaker felt ready to do some of that exploring he wanted to do. He stopped by the energon dispenser and gathered himself a plain cube of energon. A few sips and he felt ready to face the orn. He wandered out the door, into the hall beyond which connected him to the rest of the Crystal Spires. He vaguely remembered Elita One explaining who lived behind which doors. There were two spires designated as living quarters for the bots who resided permanently in the Plaza- one for the Prime and his closest associates, and the other for lords, council members, visiting delegations, and everyone else. Sunstreaker felt privileged to live in the tower with the Prime; the window-lined hall he stood in gave him an excellent view of outside. Like the rest of the architecture of Spires, the walls, floors, and ceiling were stunning white tungsten veined with silver and gold.

There was only one door next to his, which was Chromia and Ironhide's. The apartments he lived in used to be their storage room for all their weapons and paraphernalia, but they had been appealed upon to move it all elsewhere. The floor above Sunstreaker's belonged to Lord Megatron. The floor above that, the top of the tower, was the Prime's suite.

"This is so cool," he muttered to himself, walking slowly to the end of the hall where the lift was. He took it all the way to the bottom, entering the busy main floor. He didn't remember it being so busy last night, but then again, he didn't remember much from last night, being as tired and sore as he had been.

The moment bots started picking up on his spark signature, they stopped what they were doing to stare for a brief moment. Heads turned as they walked by. The only creatures that didn't stop were the drones, who kept at their appointed task with a single-mindedness that only they could accomplish. Sunstreaker knew that everyone in the Plaza had all been informed that he was Elita One's apprentice, so these bots were not surprised to see a young apprentice appear out of the lift that went up to the Prime's tower. It was his spark that they were stopping for. They were probably confused or surprised to feel _half _a spark come up on their resonance scanners. Most bots never expected something like that when meeting one of twins for the first time.

A familiar faceplate appeared in the crowd, breaking away from the small contingent he was standing with. Dark armour electrified with accents of bright blue. Very handsome, with wide wings, long legs and arms, and a smiling faceplate. As he approached, he bowed politely, and Sunstreaker returned the gesture.

"I don't know if you recall me from last night, but I was one of the Autobots who inspected _My Precious_," said the Seeker. "I'm Thundercracker."

"I remember you," Sunstreaker replied, smiling up at the friendly bot, happy to have a semi-familiar faceplate around. "I'm Sunstreaker."

"I know," the bot grinned. "Are you looking for Elita One? I saw her earlier- she was trying to get some things done before you came online."

Sunstreaker shook his head. "No, I wasn't really looking for anyone, actually. I thought I would explore for a little bit. There's so much to see and I don't have a clue where I'm going."

"Ah, then would you like a guided tour? I know a thing or two about the Plaza," Thundercracker offered. "I could show you around so you get an idea of where you're going."

"Only if you're not busy," Sunstreaker said.

"Not at all," Thundercracker said. "I have a few joors before I'm on duty again. Plus, Megatron would not be pleased if you were somehow to get lost."

"Megatron?" Sunstreaker wondered unsurely.

"Oh yes. If Elita One is upset, then Optimus Prime will hear of it. If Optimus hears of it, he will inform Megatron. Don't get me wrong, Megatron is an excellent commander, but if he's in a foul mood, he will take it out on the Autobots. So, for the sake of Autobots everywhere, I think I will be your tour guide for now," said Thundercracker, his optics sparkling with handsome mirth.

"That sounds reasonable, I suppose," Sunstreaker giggled.

"Then by all means, let the tour begin." He laid a hand to Sunstreaker's shoulder, which was all he really could do when he was so much taller than the golden bot. Any other gesture would have been awkward. With his free arm, Thundercracker swept a grand gesture to encompass the entire space they were standing in. "This is the main atrium," he said. "It's where all the busy, boring stuff happens. This place connects you to nearly every other part of the Spires."

Sunstreaker looked around, noting that the atrium was a large, circular, domed space. Doors were evenly spaced along the walls where Sunstreaker assumed the lifts into many of the towers could be found. There was a fancy triage desk stationed in front of a pair of towering crystal doors, with four microbots jumping around the triage desk in a flurry, desperate to keep up with the work being passed along their desk. There were also tall, arched entrances to hallways that led to elsewhere- conference halls, the Emporium of the Allspark, Viewing Room, etc... From the ceiling hung signs announcing which direction to go in order to end up in the right place, and other signs whose words were constantly changing, making different announcements such as the arrival of new delegations, the timing of meetings, and where the meetings were taking place.

Thundercracker must have sensed Sunstreaker getting overwhelmed, because he nudged the bot and guided him out of the atrium. They went down a bright hallway with glowing lights hanging from the ceiling. More bots turned their heads as Sunstreaker passed, but Thundercracker's presence appeared to discourage open staring. The Seeker might have been a handsome bot, but he was still a bit intimidating.

"That room right there is the Autobot Offices," said the Autobot, pointing to a plain door with a small plaque on it. "Signed up for the Autobots in there."

"Megatron commands the Autobots, right?" Sunstreaker asked.

"Yep," Thundercracker replied.

"Is he in there often, in the offices?"

The Autobot started laughing as if Sunstreaker has said something very funny.

"I take that as a _no_," said the golden bot.

Thundercracker recovered, continuing with the tour. "The room across the hall is Security Response's advisory office that rotates officers between their precincts and the Plaza."

"Autobots and Security officers work together here?"

Thundercracker nodded. "Yeah, it's easier that way, you know? The Plaza is a big place and we share the security load. Can't be too careful with the Prime here. Besides, the rotating schedule makes it so that we only have one mandatory shift every couple dozen orns." He shrugged. "I've known Autobots who get rotated into the base here and rotated out again without ever having to take a single security shift."

"Cool."

"I'd say so."

Sunstreaker peered up at his tour guide curiously. "Do you like being an Autobot?"

Thundercracker paused, thinking the question over. His answer was not what Sunstreaker expected. The Seeker shrugged calmly and said, "It's a function, I suppose."

The rest of the hall continued to be administrative offices for different sectors operating in the Spires. At the end of the hall, they took a connecting hall and travelled to another section. Down this way, Sunstreaker was given the opportunity to peek into several conference rooms- some of them used and some empty. They travelled down one hallway at Sunstreaker's insistence, feeling himself drawn down it. Thundercracker indulged him with a knowing smile until they came to the very end of the long hallway that contained no rooms. At the end, there was a set of golden doors that looked disturbingly familiar.

Without even realizing he was moving, Sunstreaker found himself reaching for the carved, golden doors. He pressed his palms to the surprisingly warm metal. It felt like electricity was zinging up his arms. Above him, Thundercracker pressed one hand reverently to the door.

"The Emporium of the Allspark," said Thundercracker. "This is where you and I and everyone else on this planet began their first orn of life." He smiled softly, his hand moving down to press on top of Sunstreaker's. "You can feel it, can't you? The draw to this place?"

"Yeah."

"It's because the Allspark is on the other side."

Sunstreaker carefully peeled his hand away from the door, curling it to his chest. For some reason, he saw flashes of blue in his mind. A large entity took shape in the vague fog of his thoughts, an immense cube scrawled with glyphs and pulsing with power. There were no optics on it to see him, but nonetheless, he felt watched. It made his spark turn over in his sparkcase.

"Come on, we should get out of here," Thundercracker beckoned. Together, they made their way down new halls to the Viewing Room. It was the place where Optimus met with civilian Cybertronians, listening to them and seeing if there was some way to help them. It was a formal place that one didn't enter without a specific purpose for being there, so Thundercracker suggested they look in from the observation windows from a floor above. Optimus looked so regal on the carved throne on a carved dais, a line of colourful civilian transformers waiting on the floor around him. All the yellow paint had been scrubbed clean from him. Ironhide stood at the Prime's shoulder, dark like a shadow.

"Does Optimus do this every orn?" Sunstreaker asked, watching in fascination as the Prime did he was built and programmed to do.

"Not every orn, no. He has other things to do- he's a real busy bot, you know? He can be away for dozens of orns at a time visiting territories and colonies. He also goes to the Emporium of the Allspark to bring about new sparks, and he sits in on certain conference meetings. Has to keep the Council Pantheon under control, right? They're a bunch of old exhaust pipes spewing out the same smoke every orn." He wrinkled his olfactory sensor, obviously not a fan of politics.

"What does Elita One do?" Sunstreaker wondered.

Thundercracker pursed his mouthplates. "A lot of stuff, but I don't know everything about it. Keep myself out of that kind of stuff- keeps me sane. All I know is that she's all over the place, always flying everywhere to get things done for the Prime. She's real efficient, good at negotiating, and smart enough to be on the Research Core if she really wanted to."

"She sounds busy."

"Everyone around here generally is."

They went back into the halls, intent on making their way outside to see the Plaza itself. On the way, Sunstreaker felt Thundercracker tense, which in turn made him slow down. He cast his optics around for whatever might have troubled the Seeker. Down the hall, he spotted two oncoming Seekers, both handsome but of slightly different design than the Autobot. Whereas Thundercracker was built strong and had actual armour instead of thin plating, these two were leaner and built as civilians. The tall one walking in front oozed arrogance, his head up, shoulders back, chest out, and roan-red paint shining haughtily. Two steps behind that one was a smaller Seeker with paint of black and violet. In his hands was a data pad, which he was rapidly writing on to catch every word that the larger Seeker said.

As they crossed paths, Thundercracker bowed, and Sunstreaker did the same because he didn't know any better. The roan-red Seeker kept walking, like he didn't even see them, but once he was a couple steps passed them, he glanced over his shoulder so that his gaze lingered on Thundercracker, then kept on walking. The smaller Seeker stopped for a couple of astroseconds, smiling brightly. There was a vagueness about the smile that was troubling, as if the bot was not all there in the head. Then the short Seeker realized how far away the other was and ran to catch up.

Once they were gone, Thundercracker kept walking in the opposite direction.

"Who were they?" Sunstreaker wondered.

"The red one was Starscream- he's the Head Adviser of the Iacon Research Core. And he's an aft," said the Autobot. "Me and him go way back."

"Oh?"

A hard smirk curled the edges of Thundercracker's mouthplates. "I clipped him on my first flight into the Plaza, on my way to sign up for the Autobots."

"Ouch."

"Yeah, he still hasn't forgiven me for that."

"How long ago did that happen?"

"Longer than you've been alive," Thundercracker said flatly.

"Wow." Sunstreaker twittered awkwardly. "So, um, who was the other one?"

Thundercracker shrugged. "An ex-terrorist."

Sunstreaker came skidding to a halt. _"What?" _

"That Seeker was an ex-terrorist called Skywarp," Thundercracker said again, as if it didn't mean anything. "He used to be part of a group looking to take down the Prime and establish the territories as their own functioning countries under their own rule. His faction broke into the Plaza and planted explosives, but they were all caught and reprogrammed before anything happened; Skywarp was among those who were arrested. Now he serves as the Research Core's free slave labour. Most of the scientists like to use him for experiments, but others like Starscream use him like a scribe."

"Like a drone?"

"That's another way of thinking about it."

Sunstreaker frowned after Skywarp, not sure whether to dislike him for once being a terrorist or feel sorry for him because he'd been turned into a living drone for others. He'd never thought about crime an punishment on Cybertron... Was it normal to be so harsh? Was it even considered harsh to reprogram someone like that when reprogramming was such an accepted form of treatment? Did someone who had planned to bomb the entire Plaza deserve much mercy?

"It seems harsh, but life is like that," Thundercracker intoned, sensing Sunstreaker's train of thought.

"Still seems cruel," Sunstreaker said.

"Would it have been crueler to execute him or let him live like a slave?" the Autobot wondered.

"At least if he's dead he can't hurt no one and no one can hurt him," Sunstreaker replied.

"Hmmm..." The light in the Autobot's optics dimmed.

"Why?"

Thundercracker looked away. "I was the one who caught him."

They made it outside in silence, Thundercracker stretching his scanners out as far as they would go in attempts to find Elita One. He discovered her on the very fringes of his scanner's capabilities, finding her with one of the many lords that came to the Plaza. He adjusted his optics and saw her rose paint glinting in the afternoon light, nearest the Moon Pavilion. It was a significant walk, but not so much a flight.

"Ever fly before?" Thundercracker asked.

"The aerials in my troupe would take me for flights when I was a youngling," Sunstreaker replied.

"This will be similar," said the Autobot. His thrusters started up, lifting him from the ground. His long arms came around Sunstreaker's small frame and held him tight. Suddenly, they were in the air. It didn't take long for Thundrecracker to make it to the Moon Pavilion, which was an open, standing structure made of moon-pale silver stone imported from an alien planet. The design was alien as well, a fascinating twisting shape that made it seem like it was caught in motion even as it was carved from stone.

Elita One stood immediately upon seeing their approach, while the lord she was with remained seated. The moment Sunstreaker was within reach, her hand came to his chest and gave him a small magnetic burst to sooth his spark. She smiled for him, her optics bright. "I'm so happy to see you up and looking so well. You didn't have any trouble finding your way around, did you? I'm so sorry that I didn't make it back in time to meet you when you came online- I had to see Lord Mirage first and our meeting ran long."

Sunstreaker regarded the ice blue lord for a moment before returning his gaze to his mentor. "I found my way around just fine. Thundercracker actually was showing me around."

Elita turned her gaze on the handsome Seeker. "Well, Autobot, you have my thanks. I'll let Megatron know you were such a help today."

Thundercracker bowed. "It was no trouble. Your apprentice is a clever one, so I enjoyed showing him around."

Sunstreaker twittered at the compliment.

The Autobot inclined his head. "If you will excuse me now, my shift is starting." With his dismissal from the Prime's mate, he took to the air again and flew away.

Sunstreaker looked back and forth between Elita and the mech she was dealing with. Lord Mirage was an incredibly important and powerful mech; he was the president of the Luna Society, the council organization which dealt with governing matters on the moons. He could almost be considered the Prime of the moons, but no one would dare bestow that title on anyone aside from the true Prime. He was only a little taller than Sunstreaker himself, and almost just as thin. He managed to carry his design with elegance, his aristocratic programming coming through in the way he postured himself, the way his optics looked upon everything with a thin veil of disdain. His ice blue paint was a well chosen shade for him, matching the iciness of everything else about him. When Sunstreaker scanned the lord's spark signature, even his spark seemed cold.

"Sunstreaker, this is Lord Mirage," said Elita. "Lord Mirage, this is my new apprentice, Sunstreaker. He just arrived last night and is still settling in."

Mirage inclined his head. "We've met before," said the lord. "I hired his troupe to perform on my estate once."

"I was only a sparkling then, so I don't remember it all," Sunstreaker said apologetically. It wasn't something he needed to be sorry for, but something about this lord made him feel guilty for even standing in his presence.

"I see." There was no tone in the lord's voice, gracefully detached without managing to be rude. His optics travelled up and down Sunstreaker's frame in an appraising manner. "You're design is very attractive, like a pleasure bot."

"Thank you," Sunstreaker replied, smiling.

"You're welcome." Mirage rose from his seat in one graceful move. "If your apprenticeship ever falls through, at least you will have another profession appropriate to your design. I would love to own a pleasure bot that looked like you."

Sunstreaker wasn't sure if the lord was being honest, trying to insult him, or if he simply lacked social grace all together. He opened his mouthplates to say something, then decided that it was safer to say nothing at all.

Elita laid a hand to Sunstreaker's shoulder, her grip tight. He noted that her usually patient smile had turned a tad terse. "Sunstreaker's apprenticeship has only begun, Mirage, but I have every faith he will make it through. There will be no need to seek out other functions."

Mirage inclined his head politely, saying nothing.

Elita swept a quick gesture in the air, clearly one of dismissal. "I believe we've discussed enough of our previous subject. You will make the necessary arrangements on Diluna for an interplanetary trading post and will make it accessible to organic species."

The cool light in the lord's optics flashed. "If I can call upon you to appeal this decision...?"

Elita shook her head. "I am aware of your reservations toward organic species, but you should not let that cloud your judgement. Think of the boost it could give the economies on your moons. Monoluna and Diluna are small enough so that their gravity will not crush visiting organics, unlike Cybertron. You have the opportunity for both trade and tourism."

Both so-called "opportunities" looked like they left a bad taste in Mirage's mouthplates.

Elita saw the look and interpreted correctly as resistance.

"If you do not make the arrangements of your own free will, I will appeal to the rest of the Luna Society and they will overrule you," Elita pressed. "Optimus is aware of this issue, as is the Council Pantheon. I need not remind you the bad press that will be involved if those parties find it necessary to intervene."

"No, you needn't remind me," sighed the lord, finally looking defeated. "Very well, I will begin drafting for a trading post. Do not get your hopes up for tourism, though." It was obvious enough in his tone that Lord Mirage did not like the idea of any organic creature setting foot on his moons. Tourism would only happen over his dismantled frame.

"My hopes are never very high when you are involved, Lord Mirage," Elita stated evenly.

The neutrality of Mirage's optics turned to ice, his frame turning rigid. He bowed and left.

The moment he was out of audio range, Elita sagged and released a long, tired sigh. Sunstreaker wrapped an arm around her, hoping to offer some kind of comfort. He was rewarded with a smile and a true hug back.

"If there is one bot on this planet who can try my nerves, it's that one," said the femme.

"I don't think I like him very much, either," Sunstreaker said.

"I can't say many do," Elita replied wryly. "You and Thundercracker came at just the right time. I was quite sure my paint would peel if I sat in his presence any longer. I can only thank my maker that I was programmed with such extensive patience or I would have smacked him by now."

Sunstreaker twittered. "Someone needs to make him download a file on manners."

Elita shook her head. "That's the problem- _he has_. He comes from a very long succession of lords on the moon, each with the same programming. He's extremely old fashioned because of it, and with it comes the very old, very formal social codes that went extinct eons ago." The femme backed away and patted Sunstreaker on the hand. "He can't help the way he is, he was programmed that way. The rest of us simply have to put up with it."

"Oh."

The femme shook her head. "You don't have to mind about all that, though. It's my job to take care of such unpleasant business." Her smile turned brilliant as she clapped her hands together. "How has your orn been so far? Are you feeling alright?"

"I'm feeling better, I guess. It might be a few orns before I feel normal...ish," Sunstreaker admitted. "I've had a really nice orn, though. I got to see a lot of the Crystal Spires. I was hoping to wander around the Plaza as well."

"That could take you orns," Elita laughed. The Plaza was _huge. _

"At least I'll have something to do while I settle in," Sunstreaker replied.

"True," conceded the femme. "How do you feel about seeing the city tonight?"

Surprised and delighted by the offer, Sunstreaker immediately nodded. "That would awesome!"

"Good. I have a little spot in mind that I'd like to take you. I think you're really going to love it." Her optics danced as she looked up at him.

"Where is it?" Sunstreaker asked, curiosity nibbling at him.

"It'll be a surprise, but be sure to shine up for it," Elita said. "Last night you had a taste of some of the silliness you'll find here, but tonight I want to show you a bit of the culture."

Sunstreaker grinned, excited to be going somewhere, but especially excited to shine up and make himself look extra nice so he could show off his frame in public.


	28. Chapter 20

Hey everyone!~ If you're all wondering where the usual clutter of the review responses are, I've decided to try replying to all of your reviews via PMs. It will make the beginning of these chapters look a lot less crowded, won't it? Also, with PMs, I won't be so restricted in my responses; you get longer, proper responses through the PMs. ^_^ The only set back is that FanFiction doesn't allow me to reply to people who submit their reviews anonymously. I am truly sorry to those individuals, because it really is a joy to me to be able to respond to all of your comments.

I sincerely hope you all enjoy this chapter. Sideswipe may not be in it, but he will appear in the next chapter. ^_^

Read, Review, and Enjoy~

**Chapter 20**

Evening was setting, and Sunstreaker was now strung so tight with excitement that it was nearly palpable in the air around him. He stood in the front room of his apartment, pacing back and forth as he waited to be called upon. The breems ticked by too slowly. His mind kept racing, wondering where Elita One was taking him. Every time he tried to sit down, he had to stand up again or else be forced to listen to the sound of his own plating trembling.

He fretted _constantly_ over his appearance.

If there had been a hope for him to be less conscious of his appearance now that he was in a beautiful frame, it was a groundless hope. Perhaps Sunstreaker could be called a little more confident and comfortable in his frame, but now he worried over looking his absolute best at all times. Partially, he wanted to look good for himself, but he also wanted to look good for Elita One. To embarrass her out in public... well, Megatron and the others had that covered, but he really didn't want to _add_ to the insanity.

The only instruction his mentor had given him before sending him on his way was to 'look nice' when she picked him up later. _Look nice_. That was a little vague, wasn't it? Was he just supposed to clean himself up and touch up his polish, or did he have to be a little bit more detailed? Was he supposed to look fancy? Did he have to get out the sparkly gifts that Bluestreak had given him and wear those? If he did wear them, would that make him look too pretentious?

Part of him wanted to call up his family and see what they recommended, but a part of him thought that doing something like that was silly, and another part of him warned that getting fashion sense from a bunch of flashy performers was not the wisest choice ever. Aside from his family, he didn't know anyone else to call. It was kind of sad to realize how few friends he had, and how absolutely lonely he was in Iacon.

Out of frustration, he paced his apartment. Then he rearranged the furniture. He started unpacking his luggage, put it all away, and then five breems later went back and put it all in new places. He turned the communications station off and on four times before finally turning it off for good and walking away.

He needed _someone_ to talk to.

Finally bowing to pressure, he slipped out of his apartment and went to the door next to his. He heard nothing on the other side, but did happen to sense the sparks within. Nervously, he knocked.

Within the apartment, there came a deep rumbling like a slumbering beast being awakened, followed by muffled shuffling that became louder as a heavy figure drew closer to the door. A moment later, Ironhide's looming form stood tall and foreboding in the doorway like a mech-shaped storm cloud. Sunstreaker stood rooted to the floor, staring up at the Prime Protectorate and suddenly realizing what a very bad idea it had been to knock in the first place. He didn't remember Ironhide being so intimidating as a youngling. Then again, he had never had a reason to fear anything but the things he didn't understand when he was young. Staring up at the huge mech towering in front of him now, Sunstreaker found a very good reason to be nervous.

A sharp voice rose from behind the immense mech. "Ironhide, you're intimidating the poor thing. Ask him what he wants!"

Sunstreaker leaned to the side, peering past Ironhide to see Chromia sitting on the floor of main room. Around her was an assortment of... weapons? He watched the femme handle one of the energon blades with loving ease. Sunstreaker tensed, even more frightened than he had been two astroseconds ago. He didn't want to mess with anyone who regarded a weapon with the same love and care one might gaze upon a lover with.

Ironhide snorted, glancing back at his mate. "I wasn't intimidating him."

"Yes, you were," Chromia replied without looking up from her blades. "You do it naturally."

Ironhide made another grumbling noise, glancing down at Sunstreaker, who looked like he was trying to disappear into the floor. "Do you need something?" asked the towering mech.

"Um..." Sunstreaker couldn't remember why he came over in the first place.

"He's probably nervous about tonight," Chromia intoned.

Ironhide arched an optic ridge at Sunstreaker. "That true?"

Sunstreaker bobbed his head absently. For some reason, he opened his mouthplates and said, "I'm supposed to look nice."

Ironhide looked him up and down. "That can't be too hard for you."

"It's not, but..."

The large black-armoured mech nodded, as if he understood the little bot's dilemma. He eased out of the doorway to make room for Sunstreaker. "Come in."

Surprised by the invitation, Sunstreaker almost didn't move fast enough. Chromia shot him a sharp look, expectant of him to stop standing around like an idiot, which spurred him into motion. Pressing as far away from Ironhide as he dared, he crept into the apartment. Glancing around, he noted that this apartment was a mirror image of his own. The main difference was the fact that Ironhide and Chromia's home was not as empty as his own; from the walls hung various weapons that looked like they were from all different periods of Cybertron's history. He noted that some of them even appeared to be from alien worlds. The floor was covered with rubber and polymer rugs to cushion the damage of heavy metal feet tromping across it constantly. The furniture Sunstreaker could see was much larger than his own, looking old and well used, arranged in the large open room to suit the occupants' tastes. There were shades on the windows that cast the room into a dim light, turned golden and homey by the small lamps that glowed at either end of the couch.

"What a surprise to see you here, Sunstreaker." Chromia smiled for him, but even such a friendly gesture looked frightening on her. Neither she nor her mate were particularly attractive, built to intimidate rather than charm.

"He doesn't know what to do with himself," Ironhide intoned, standing just behind Sunstreaker. The golden mech jumped, having not expected Ironhide to sneak up so close behind him.

"Poor thing," Chromia sighed, her gaze switching to Ironhide. "You should help him."

The long silence that followed made Sunstreaker squirm. He felt a long rush of hot air travel down his back as Ironhide sighed. A pair of large hands landed on his shoulders. Sunstreaker noted that from one hand dangled a worn polishing cloth that had probably seen a lot of vorns of use and abuse. He stared at it for longer than necessary. Did the cloth mean Ironhide had been in the middle of polishing himself? Or had he been polishing a weapon like his mate?

"Come on," said the large mech, guiding Sunstreaker deeper into the apartment. With a groan, Ironhide sat down on the gigantic couch, bringing Sunstreaker down next to him. The Prime Protectorate was an immense bot; not as tall as some bots that Sunstreaker was used to, but he was certainly wider. His armour was thick, and the armaments he sported were obvious enough. Sitting next to him made Sunstreaker feel even smaller than he actually was.

"You're a good mech, 'Hide." Chromia patted her mate affectionately on the leg, her smile soft, before returning to her work.

Ironhide snorted as if insulted.

"Did Elita tell you where she's taking me tonight?" Sunstreaker wondered, skittering away from Ironhide.

"Yes," Chromia replied. "Coincidentally, she also told us not to tell you anything if you came over here to poke around for hints."

"Oh." He sagged in disappointment.

"Don't worry about it," Ironhide grunted, taking one of Sunstreaker's arms and sliding him back along the couch. He inspected the limb he held. "You really are thin... the plating is so flimsy," he rumbled quietly. His big fingers flexed around the golden plating, watching it bend gently. "What alloy did you use?"

"Electrum," Sunstreaker murmured.

"Gold and silver alloy? I suppose it's good for an artist," Ironhide grumbled. He didn't say it out loud, but Sunstreaker could tell that the Protectorate didn't consider any type of metal 'good' unless it could withstand bullets. Without further fuss, Ironhide dipped his worn polishing cloth into the tub of polish hidden in the corner of the couch, and then Sunstreaker suddenly found himself being scrubbed down without mercy. The strength of the mech's efforts rocked Sunstreaker's slight frame back and forth, as if he was trying to have the paint removed from his frame rather than shine it.

Too scared to say anything about the treatment, Sunstreaker endured in silence.

"You're being too rough," Chromia commented without looking back.

"He's not complaining," Ironhide grunted back.

Sunstreaker watched the room rock back and forth as the polishing cloth worked on his head, catching on his fins. There was pause for more polish, then the rocking motions started up again, focused on his shoulders and back. His arms, and then his legs were done. If he had been prone to motion sickness, he would have purged by now. Just as suddenly as it began, Ironhide was done. Even though Sunstreaker physically stopped rocking back and forth, the room still moved like he was. Once his wits returned, he raised his arms and inspected the Protectorate's handiwork.

"I'm no artist, but you look good to me," said Ironhide.

Sunstreaker smiled shakily. "It does look good." Much to his own surprise. "Thank you." He glanced at both bots carefully. "It looks good enough for whatever Elita has planned?"

"You'll be the second best looking bot there," Chromia said. When Sunstreaker stared in confusion, she laughed. "Elita will be the best looking one."

"I can live with that," Sunstreaker said sheepishly.

Ironhide grumbled, resuming the task of polishing himself, which he must have been in the middle of before Sunstreaker had knocked on their door. Out of a sense of politeness, Sunstreaker offered to help. The larger mech regarded him with deep-set optics for a moment, then held out his cloth. It was an appropriately sized cloth for someone like Ironhide, but almost too huge for Sunstreaker to handle with any grace. He did his best with what he had, meekly crawling around in order to reach Ironhide's broad back. The polish was given to him, which he noted was just a normal, unfancy brand that could be bought anywhere.

Chromia made a rough noise, finishing with her blades. Sunstreaker carefully observed out of the corner of his optic as the guard for the Prime's sparkmate performed what looked like a very familiar ritual; she inspected the finished work of each of her weapons, approving or disapproving of them, and then slipping them away into the right spots on her frame. Each knife, dagger, and one frighteningly intimidating sword had their own sheath, and each was placed in an order specific to the ritual Chromia performed. Once done with her task, she used the same cloth she'd been treating her weapons to rub herself down. She didn't even use proper plating polish; the same polish she used on her weapons was used on her armour. Sunstreaker had to press his mouthplates together and concentrate very hard on not saying anything about it.

By the time Sunstreaker was done with Ironhide's back, there came a knocking at the door.

"Come in!" Chromia bellowed. Whoever was on the other side did not deserve the same courtesy Sunstreaker had been treated with.

With a click and hiss, the door swished open to reveal a small party of three. Elita One was in the lead, with Optimus and Megatron at her shoulders.

"So this is where you'd gone off to," said the femme, her optics landing on Sunstreaker with laughing delight.

Sunstreaker dropped the polishing cloth and scrambled from the couch. "I... um... yeah, Ironhide was helping me, and- uh..."

Chromia came to her feet and clapped Sunstreaker on the shoulder. "He just needed a little help getting ready."

Megatron snorted. "I can't say you two would be my first choice."

"Really, oh fashionable one?" The femme arched one optic ridge haughtily. "Is that a spot of yellow I see?"

Immediately, the Lord Protector looked down to inspect himself. When he realized the ruse, he pouted.

Sunstreaker giggled nervously. He noted that Elita One, Optimus Prime, and Megatron each looked polished up, though none looked particularly fancy. They looked as they would on a normal orn, albeit with a bit more attention to their shiny plating.

Elita held out her hand. "Are you ready for your surprise?"

"I think I am," Sunstreaker replied, taking his mentor's hand. He was guided out of Chromia and Ironhide's apartment, down the lift to the main floor, and out of the Spires entirely. As a group, the six bots strolled cheerfully through the Plaza, which was now cast in bright lights turned on for the evening. No one was out anymore aside from drones doing necessary maintenance. Although the Plaza happened to sprawl over a very large portion of ground, crossing it did not seem to take long at all. Sunstreaker decided that it was the company he was with that made the distance feel shorter than it was.

When they came to the border between the Prime Plaza and the rest of Iacon, there was a small station similar to the one on the floating platform. Only two Autobots were on duty in the small station, both of whom came out when they saw the small group approaching. Inspections for outgoing individuals were not as detailed as ones for incoming figures; it mostly consisted of making sure no sensitive information was being transported out. A few astroseconds of idle talk and the two Autobots stepped aside to usher the group of six out of the Plaza and onto the main thoroughfare that waiting outside. Once beyond the gates, they collapsed into their alt modes and revved their engines.

"I'll meet you there," Megatron intoned, taking off into the skies.

Elita One sidled to Sunstreaker's side, her engine purring lowly. "You just stick close, okay? I wouldn't want you to get lost."

Sunstreaker did as he was bid, sticking as close as possible to his mentor as he physically could while doing the speed limit through the city. Thankfully, he had the distinct advantage of driving with the Prime, who other drivers pulled over for as he passed. Sunstreaker briefly checked the road laws for the city and noted that there was no specific requirement for other bots to pull over; it seemed they did so out of politeness. Some of them even transformed to wave as the Prime passed.

With the opportunity to drive through the city, Sunstreaker was able to see everything that he had missed on his first flight through. From the ground, the buildings looked much taller, and the lights were certainly brighter. The hard roads beneath his wheels vibrated straight through his frame. His sense of smell, though muted in alt mode, did give him a chance to take in the smells of driving; warm exhaust and hot metal. Smells that were familiar to him from Centaurie Tetrax.

A nudge here and there guided Sunstreaker down the roads he was supposed to go. As a group, they had to go up two levels, and then turned into a walking-only district. The drive itself was not very long, though Sunstreaker was still not as experienced as he would have liked, and so found himself winded when he came to his feet at last. No one commented on the matter. Elita merely took his hand and brushed him with a magnetic pulse that helped calm his spark when it started to ache unreasonably.

Taking his first steps into the district they had arrived in, Sunstreaker noted with absolute certainty that this place was designated primarily for artists. The lights glowed in a rainbow of different hues, casting colourful hazes over painted murals that boasted from nearly every paintable surface. The walls of buildings, power poles, benches, and even the ground was painted. Speakers hung from the shadowed corners above some of the shop fronts, flooding all different kinds of music into every available space. Sunstreaker could hear Blaster's radio station competing with Soundwave's for airspace. The bots who wandered to and fro down the streets appeared in all shades of every imaginable colour and fashion. Even their optics were switched out of the normal Cybertronian blue, replaced with pinks, greens, purples, yellows, and any other colour possible.

"Welcome to the Dali District," Elita said cheerfully, sweeping her arms wide to encompass all that they could see.

"It's amazing," Sunstreaker breathed, regarding his surroundings with awe.

Optimus smiled down at him. "Centaurie Tetrax didn't have a place like this, did it?"

"No, not like this," Sunstreaker murmured. "The art shops were in the business districts while the galleries were all over the place. None of it was together like this place."

And _together_ it was, like a whirlpool or a melting pot of every imaginable form of visual art. The fronts of shops boasted paints, sculptures, banners, and holographic technologies. Small crowds gathered on street corners where one or two merchants were selling from colourful stalls, or a troupe of three or four bots were performing skits.

"The Dali District is one of our tourist attractions," Elita One intoned cheerfully. "It developed around the time Alpha Prime was in office. Over two hundred artists from around the planet and colonies descended into this district and painted all the streets and buildings in protest of a Council ruling."

"Wow," Sunstreaker breathed.

Elita nodded. "They didn't get the Council to revoke their ruling, but the paintings never left this place. Eventually, the district turned into the one you see now."

"Try not to touch anyone," Chromia warned darkly, keeping an optic on every group they passed. "Some of the worst thieves come from this district; one touch, and they can rob your entire credit account."

Sunstreaker blinked in surprise once, then wrinkled his olfactory sensor. "Good thing I don't have any credits, then."

Their walk through the colourful streets was thankfully uneventful. Around every corner was something to grab their attentions, but no one appeared to want to grab their credits. Many bots waved to their group, but that was the most attention they received. Sunstreaker once enquired if exploring the Dali District was the surprise that Elita intended, to which she replied 'no'. The real surprise was their destination, though the journey wasn't so bad in itself.

Their destination, as it turned out, was a square building that was so tall that it disappeared into the level above. The darkened sky was obscured by roads crisscrossing the sky. The walls of the building were coated in fresh white paint, and on top of the fresh paint were new designs that looked as if they had been painted on that day. The front door, which was oddly round instead of the regular rectangular shape, had a long line snaking from it, down the stairs, and into the street.

Sunstreaker knew this was their destination because Megatron was leaning against the front of the building, looking rather bored as he waited for them.

"Took you long enough," called the Lord Protector, pushing away from the wall. "I thought my paint was going to start peeling out of boredom."

"You could have gone in without us," Elita offered.

Megatron eyed the building with suspicion. "Not my idea of fun, femme. It's all..._artsy_ stuff."

"Not your forte, hmm?" Optimus Prime drawled knowingly, teasingly.

"Not yours either, but you indulge _her_ far too much," Megatron pointed out, tilting his head toward Elita One.

"I don't consider this indulgence, Megatron," said the femme. She smiled winningly and patted the Lord Protector on the arm. "This is actually a prerequisite for letting Optimus get into my berth tonight."

"The couch is rather uncomfortable," said the Prime.

"I didn't need to know that," Megatron informed flatly.

Sunstreaker was too busy reading the sign out front to pay much attention to the exchange. He was delighted to find that this was the opening night to an artist's gallery. He wasn't familiar with the designation of the artist, who happened to be called Beachcomber, but had heard that he was an odd artist of various styles who happened to have a penchant for taking illicit substances and creating images while under the influence. This gallery's theme and title was "_Others_".

They didn't even have to wait in line. The moment Prime inclined his head to the large mech admitting bots into the gallery, the way cleared and Sunstreaker found himself ushered in. Excitement flitted through him, begging him to run off. He wanted to see every display at the same time! Manners kept him glued to his mentor's side, far too aware that the bots he was with were extremely important and he had to maintain a certain amount of respectability when out in public with them. Much to his delight, Elita looked as excited as he was, which made it quite easy to stick by her side. She threaded her arm around his and dragged him off to see the nearest paintings. Optimus followed dutifully behind them. It was a testament to both his patience and his love for his sparkmate that he did not complain once of being made to follow in their footsteps. His smile was patient, his demeanour calm, as he listened to Elita One and Sunstreaker faun over everything they saw.

Unlike the Prime, Megatron, Ironhide, and Chromia did not stay in Sunstreaker and Elita's company. After a few breems of inspecting the entryway, the three of them melted quietly into the background, which was quite a feat for them considering that they were among the largest and most obvious Cybertronians present. They did as their functions commanded them to do: ensure the safety of the Prime and the Prime's sparkmate.

"Oh, Sunstreaker, look at this one! It's called 'Winged Alien'," Elita announced, reading off the little card next to the painting. "It's gorgeous, don't you think?"

Sunstreaker looked up at the exquisite piece hung on the wall, his optics blinking widely up at it. "I've never seen anything like it."

The canvas was a swirling portal of whites and blues, with an indistinct figure enshrouded in the centre of it. The figure was certainly alien, because it didn't appear made of metal. It was...skin? Sunstreaker had looked at enough pictures of aliens to know what skin looked like. There was a smudge of gold stuff on top of his head and a pair of blue eyes piercing through the canvas. From the vague figure's back was something like wings, but they weren't metallic wings. The appendages were bent like they had joints, and covered in an indistinct pattern of white things.

"Those are feathers," Elita whispered, pointing to the wings. "I met a species once that kept creatures with feathered wings as pets."

"Feathers?" Sunstreaker wondered.

Elita tilted her head. "They're like modified scales, but they're soft."

"What are scales?"

"Like skin, but... Oh, never mind," Elita sighed, realizing that it was nearly impossible to explain all the weird physical quirks of organic species.

"Okay," Sunstreaker replied.

Suddenly, they were aware of a bot standing next to them. He was too tall for a microbot but too short for a femme; his paint a mixture of blue and off-white colours that gave him the impression of fading into the background even as he stood still. His faceplate was fixed in a vague expression, as if he weren't quite there in the head.

"This one came to me in a vision," said the bot in a quiet, slow voice. He looked up at the painting entitled 'Winged Alien'. "This alien came to me while I was visiting on a plane of higher existence. He called himself Morningstar. I had to paint him before I forgot what he looked like." It was hard to tell if the bot was naturally a slow talker or if he was drugged on something. Taking into account what he just said, chances were that he was on drugs.

"You must be Beachcomber," Elita said, extending her hand to him. Beachcomber stared at her hand, then touched it. He touched Sunstreaker's hand as well.

"You're Elita One. I didn't think someone like you would come here," Beachcomber intoned, not quite looking at them. He stared over their shoulders instead.

"Even bots like us need a pleasant distraction once in a while," Elita replied, acting as if there was nothing unusual about the bot she was speaking with. "I just wanted to show my apprentice what he should be looking forward to one orn. He's training to become a great painter, you see."

"Ah," sighed the microbot, turning to stare in Sunstreaker's direction. Something flashed in Beachcomber's glazed stare, his optics coming into focus and suddenly locking onto Sunstreaker's gaze. A single proper glance into the painter's gaze let Sunstreaker know that the bot was definitely tripping on something.

"You'll be great some orn," said the small bot. "Terrible, but great."

The words stunned Sunstreaker to speechlessness, spooking him too much to say anything in return.

"Beachcomber!" the gallery owner exclaimed, hurrying over before the artist could say anything more. "Ah, 'Comber, why don't you circulate to see the other guests here, hmm? I'm sure they could benefit from your company."

"You just don't want me to say anything silly in front of important bots," said the artist. And with that, he meandered off in no particular direction.

"Some artists can be so peculiar," Elita murmured as she watched Beachcomber's retreat.

The gallery owner, a willowy bot who appeared to have a chronic shaking problem, flickered a smile. "To hear some bots tell it, 'Comber used to be a drifter in the colonies. They're all unusual in one way or another... you get that way when you have no function, you know? Machines... well, we're not meant to be without purpose."

A look of concern crossed Optimus's faceplate. "Has he been completely without a function, then?" It was one of the issues that he was trying to resolve as Prime; there was an increasing number of bots on Cybertron and within the colonies who were without functions. The Council Pantheon disliked their presence for the drain on the economy that they represented. Optimus worried for them because, as it had already been pointed out, it wasn't healthy for their kind to be without a purpose.

"Not always. He did some independently published philosophical writing- good stuff, if you're in to reading that sort of thing. Then he got involved in... well, some shady substances." The gallery owner trailed off, clearing his vents nervously. It simply was not good taste to speak of drugs or drug use in front of the Prime of Cybertron.

Elita cast a shrewd look to her mate, then inclined her head to the other bot. "Please, go on."

"Well, yes, um..." His vents were cleared again, the shaking in his frame going steady. "Beachcomber got involved in some unsavoury matters, which subsequently led him to his most recent calling- _art_. It's odd, though. Sober, he has no talent; he can hardly pick up a paintbrush, but give him a shot of something, and he can create _masterpieces_. He even says that he's connected to... 'higher planes of existence'." There was an unsteady laugh as the gallery owner's optics darted around.

"Isn't that kind of sad that he only has talent when he's... indisposed?" Sunstreaker wondered, eyeing the next painting on the wall. He noted the title card read 'He Who Sees'. The image was a depiction of optics too real to be paint on a canvas. The colour was deep, rich amber like molten sunsets on the horizon. Sunstreaker could not help the feeling of being watched, and so looked away quickly.

"It is incredibly sad, but all artists have a sad story to tell," was the reply. "If you will excuse me...?"

"Yes, of course," Elita said, dismissing the mech with a wave.

With a deep bow, the gallery owner hurried after Beachcomber in hopes of preventing the other bot from saying something stupid to someone else important.

Sunstreaker stared after the bot, then turned his gaze on his mentor. "Is it true what he said?"

"Is what true?" Elita asked.

"That all artists have a sad story to tell."

"Ah," said Elita. She took Sunstreaker's hand in her own and patted it, offering him a gentle smile. "I think it's true that everyone has a sad story to tell, not just artists. We also have happy stories. That's just called living life."

Optimus revved lightly, touching their shoulders to gain their attentions. "There's more to see if you both are still willing."

Sunstreaker nodded, squeezing Elita's hand. "Yes, please."

They set off again to explore the gallery, finding themselves delighted, entranced, spooked, and mesmerized by the series of paintings presented to them. Drones wandered the rooms, offering trays with energon on them. Sunstreaker kept away from anything that remotely might have high-grade in it, choosing to sip from small cubes of sweet, bubbly energon. Being in the company of the Prime proved almost as entertaining as being in the gallery itself. Most of the time, Optimus drew attention from the bots around him and was forced to detour to speak with them, or else he was trying his best to sound intelligent while politely keeping up with his sparkmate's and Sunstreaker's discussions of the paintings.

Strange as it was, Elita seemed more excited to simply have Sunstreaker with her than to be in the gallery itself. Her happiness was infectious, keeping Sunstreaker grinning wider than he felt necessary. It was an endless delight to debate with her the meanings of certain paintings. There were also a number of odd sculptures sitting in the open spaces, which they pondered over, and sometimes ended up laughing over how silly some of their guesses about the meaning of things could get. Most of the time, Elita was excitedly informing Sunstreaker that there would be an orn that he would have a gallery opening. Whether he painted on canvas or bots, he was going to be a great painter.

From time to time, Beachcomber wandered back to them to offer commentary on his work; as the night passed, he increasingly became more sober, able to make optic contact and forming full sentences. Despite coming into a more lucid state, he was still a damnably slow talker, as well as a slow walker. Even his thought processes seemed slow, especially when he would ponder a simple question for nearly half a breem before answering. He did not appear physically capable of doing anything in a hurry.

Finally, when they came around to one of the last unexplored sections of the gallery, Sunstreaker was all but jumping from his plating with an excess of excitement and exuberance. Not only was he having the time of his life being in a gallery full of beautiful paintings and high-class bots, but he was receiving compliment after compliment from bots who liked his frame. He had also had several enquiries about what brand of polish he used, to which Sunstreaker wisely evaded answering.

"Oh my, look at these ones," Elita exclaimed as she dragged Sunstreaker to a series of paintings on the wall on the far side of the room. "They're absolutely stunning!"

Sunstreaker stared with wide optics. He found no words to describe what he was feeling, so he gaped openly in silence. No matter if the paintings had been done in a drug-induced haze, some things were undeniably beautiful. The one he gazed upon now was called 'Those Who Sleep Below'. In it were indistinct shapes that could only be seen after staring at the image for several astroseconds without blinking. After a while, the figures seemed to emerge from a twilight mist, taking form like solid shadows against the cave-like walls. The dark space looked too familiar. The glowing optics that stared out of the painting were too vivid, especially as they seemed to drop and focus directly on Sunstreaker.

From behind him came a deep voice-

"I don't get it."

Jumping in surprise, Sunstreaker spun around to see Megatron. He was staring at the painting with an expression akin to confused distaste.

Chromia was nearby, inspecting another painting of a hideous creature with a scowling, scarred faceplate. She looked up when she heard Megatron's complaint. "You need to be _cultured_ to understand art," she said.

"Guess that means you don't understand any of it," Megatron replied cheerfully.

Chromia scowled. "You wanna take this outside?"

Megatron grinned, decidedly happier now that he had someone to bother. "Why? So I could kick your aft in an even more public place?"

Optimus immediately interceded between the two. "Put it in neutral, you two. This is a _peaceful_ art show."

"A fight would have made it interesting," Ironhide lamented.

Optimus shot him a reproachful glare. "Not helping, Ironhide."

Ironhide arched a heavy optic ridge. "Was I supposed to be?"

Elita wrapped her arms around Sunstreaker, as if shielding him from the stupidity that was inherent in the bots she associated with. "How is it that you are the only sane one among all the bots I know?"

Sunstreaker blinked once, looking down at the lovely pink femme hugging him. The thought about her question, and then answered honestly: "Because I'm too new here to be embarrassing?"

She sighed, leaning away to look him in the optic. "So it's only a matter of time, hmm?"

"Given the family I come from... yep, it's only a matter of time," Sunstreaker replied with a certain amount of resignation.

"I suppose I can handle that," Elita said, squeezing him once more. She cycled air through her vents before making her way over to the developing squabble, taking Chromia by the arm in order to guide her away. With the object of his taunting now gone, Megatron smoothly switched his attention to his brother.

Sunstreaker rubbed the back of his neck in a stupefied sort of way. Despite the fact that all these bots were among some of the most powerful and influential figures on the planet, they were still so strange it was hard to comprehend. He didn't think powerful bots were allowed to act silly.

Deciding that he wanted to enjoy the rest of his night, he returned his attention to the last of Beachcomber's paintings. As he perused the paintings at his own pace, he felt Beachcomber wander to his side again. The smaller bot was silent company while Sunstreaker wandered around. It wasn't as disconcerting to have the artist following him as Sunstreaker first might have guessed. Beachcomber was completely sober now, his optics clear as he watched Sunstreaker carefully. His presence was more curious than threatening. When they came to a certain painting, the smaller bot placed a light hand to Sunstreaker's forearm.

"Here," he said, inclining his head to the image on the wall.

"Oh, um, okay," Sunstreaker murmured, giving the artwork his attention.

It was called 'The Fall of the Innocent'. He didn't understand the image like the others; there were no figures in this painting. There were only colours mixed together in bright swaths like an explosion; it was so busy that you didn't know where to place your optics. Bright columns of gold-yellow-amber-ochre lined the sides- the paintbrush used had left patterns in the paint, like swirling whirlpools twirling through the rich colours. Whirlpools like optics in the golden light. Placed between the bright columns, the middle of the canvas was blindingly bright- stars and fireworks mixed together in reds, yellows, oranges and every imaginable value in between. It was as if everything was on fire. Down the middle of the image were two blue-white streaks of paint travelling from top to bottom, looking like falling stars crashing to the dark ground. One star was brighter than the other.

Even though Sunstreaker did not understand what he was seeing, he could not look away from the image.

Beachcomber regarded Sunstreaker carefully. "What does this make you feel?"

Sunstreaker thought about it carefully, trying to understand what he felt. He canted his head, frowning. "Sad, I think."

Beachcomber nodded. "Most bots say it looks energetic."

"I can see how they'd say that," Sunstreaker admitted.

"But you feel sad?"

"Yeah... but I can't explain it. Sorry," Sunstreaker murmured, shrugging.

"You don't have to apologize for what you feel. I think what you feel is more appropriate," said the smaller bot, rocking on his heels gently. "I'm not sure, but I think it's supposed to be some kind of tragedy. You're supposed to be sad for tragedies."

Sunstreaker slanted the smaller bot a curious look, shifting his weight awkwardly. "You don't know what your own painting means?"

"I don't remember painting this," Beachcomber replied lightly. "I'm not even sure _I _painted it."

"Who else would have done it, if not you?" Sunstreaker wondered carefully. He reasoned with himself that he was asking about such things because he wanted to know other artists, he wanted to know their many quirks, and he had to get used to how strange some of them could be; he did not want to acknowledge that a part of him had a sneaking suspicion that there was more to this gallery than just paintings.

Again, Beachcomber shrugged. "I don't know... whoever took over my frame while I vacated it for a while. I'm never quite sure who comes in, but sometimes they stick around to chat after." He dug into his subspace pocket and withdrew a small vial full of black powder. "OZ does that, you know? Take a little bit, and you go somewhere else... or, at least, it does that for me. The effect is different for everyone."

"Put that away!" Sunstreaker gasped, horrified that anyone would bring out something like that when there were so many bots around. He'd never seen a real drug before, and to be quite honest, he never wanted to be so close to one either!

"Oh, right..." The vial disappeared as if it had never been there in the first place.

"Are you insane! ?" Sunstreaker hissed, trying to keep his voice as low as possible while still remaining furious and horrified.

Beachcomber blinked slowly, mulling over the exclamation. "As far as I know, I don't think I'm insane."

And answer like that made Sunstreaker want to hit the bot. "Are you trying to get yourself arrested? Do you know how much trouble you could get into if someone caught you!"

Beachcomber did not look at all fazed. "It's the last of my stash; I'm going to get rid of it tonight, after the gallery showing is done." He looked up into Sunstreaker's pale optics. "I only paint when I'm on OZ, but I'm done with painting so I'm done with OZ too. I don't like it when I can see the amber optics watching me."

A chill went down Sunstreaker's back. He involuntarily took a step back before he realized what he was doing.

Beachcomber tilted his head slowly, noting Sunstreaker's sudden tension. "I think you know what I mean, don't you?"

Sunstreaker said nothing at all. He wished desperately that Elita One would return so he had a polite excuse to run out of there.

"Even if you don't know, _they_ know of _you_," Beachcomber said, ignoring the mounting tension in Sunstreaker's frame. Maybe he was completely oblivious to it. "They talk about you and your brother all the time, did you know that? You're either very interesting to them or very important." He sighed at length, one long exhalation of air from his vents, and then he was silent for an agonizing amount of time. "After tonight, I'm leaving Cybertron. Something is happening in the places we can't see, and I don't want to be here when it spills over into our plane of existence... Oh, look, Elita One is coming back."

Startled by the sudden change of subject, Sunstreaker swung around. Elita One was halfway across the room, her smile bright and undisturbed as she made her way through the crowd. He wanted her to get to him sooner. His optics then swung to Beachcomber, who was still standing in the same place. The smaller bot offered his hand.

"Thank you for coming to see my artwork," said the microbot. "Now you know more than you did before."

Sunstreaker didn't want to touch hands with the bot, but found that he couldn't refuse the gesture unless he wanted to be intensely rude. They touched hands, and then Beachcomber wandered away. For all the disturbance that the painter had given Sunstreaker, he himself did not look at all bothered with it all.

Elita's sudden touch on his shoulder made him jump.

"You okay?" she asked, laughing at little at how jittery he was.

"Oh, um, yes... my spark is just starting to twinge again. I think I might head back to the Plaza now," Sunstreaker stuttered.

Elita titled her head, then acquiesced. "Of course. I wouldn't imagine you'd be up for an entire night on the town. I'll gather the others and we can leave together." She left in search of the four others of their group.

Sunstreaker took a step to follow in his mentor's wake, but turned a glance over his shoulder at the last moment. All of the optics in all the paintings in the room appeared focused on him. He shuddered, determinedly looking away. He remembered the message that Sideswipe had passed on to him from Flip-

_You will be looked after in Iacon. _

He wasn't so sure anymore that the old mech had been referring to Elita One.


	29. Chapter 21

For those of you who have been missing the mischief of everyone's favourite red imp, this is finally a Sideswipe chapter! It turned out shorter than I was hoping for, but hey, that's life. Sometimes you get big ones and sometimes you get small ones... [insert penis joke here]. Despite its length, this is a significant chapter for the beginning of one of Sideswipe's many (mis)adventures in becoming the mech we all know. It's his first taste of the poisoned wine that will have him coming back for more. Without saying anything more, I hope you all enjoy the story. ^_^

Major thanks to the wonderful reviewers of the last chapter: **Daklog73, Savvy Enigma, TransformersLover95, femme4jack, Faecat, Leonixon, AutobotSyds643, bRamble Girl, SEZwho94, Shizuka Taiyou, Ladyofthedrgns, Lecidre, riah riddle**, and **MonkeyTookMyTaco**.

Read, Review, and Enjoy~

**Chapter 21**

The orn that Sideswipe was no longer incapacitated by separation from his brother, he celebrated in the fashion he knew best.

"_Get back here, you little pit-spawn!" _

Howling with laughter, Sideswipe dodged around the hand that grabbed for him, and then ducked low when someone else rushed him from behind. Flashdance didn't stop in time. His feet catching on Sideswipe's crouched form. With a wild squawk, the dancer flew straight into Wildride. In tangle of limbs and heated curses, the pair went to the floor with a crash. Bubbles and white foam floated around them innocuously.

Sideswipe popped to his feet with a gleeful whoop, continuing to laugh hysterically at his own cleverness.

Thrillride came skidding around the corner, her tyres leaving marks in the floor before she transformed to bipedal mode. She pointed a long, sharp finger at him like a weapon. Her vents were heaving, and with every exhalation of hot air came a puff of foamy white bubbles similar to the ones Flashdance and Wildride were sporting. When she opened her mouthplates to spit a few choice curses, bubbles flew out instead of words.

"And I thought I had a bubbly personality," Sideswipe laughed, dancing around in the middle of the hall.

Thrillride's optics flashed just as her frame collapsed back into its alt mode amidst a froth of bubbles. With a roar of her engine, she shot down the hall straight for Sideswipe. She might not be the largest of the performers in the troupe, but she could still do some damage if she ran him over. And she looked angry enough to run him over.

"Slag!" Sideswipe howled, though he still could not wipe the grin from his faceplate. Even with his life in peusdo-danger, he'd laugh himself to his grave over a prank like this. Just as Thrillride was upon him, he dived to the side and bounced off the wall. The lightcycle flashed by so closely it felt like some paint had been shaved off his aft. There came a screech of tyres as Thrillride reared and spun around, coming back for another round.

Instead of panic, Sideswipe thrummed with excitement. "Try your worst, femme!" he goaded loudly, diving away again as she came for her second pass. "If that's the best you can do, you'll never catch me!"

Thrillride skidded across the floor as she missed on her third pass. "When I get my hands on you-!"

"Maybe another time, Thrillride," Sideswipe sang, dodging out of the way one last time. He glanced back at Wildride and Flashdance and noticed that they were nearly done unlocking their plating from each other. Once the two of them were free and teamed up with Thrillride... well, Sideswipe didn't like what his chances would be after that. Deciding it was best not to stick around, he collapsed into his alt mode and streaked out of there like his life depended on it.

Over the roar of his engine, he laughed as loudly and freely as he dared.

He'd been planning this prank for _orns_ and it was finally paying off!

All those orns he'd spent in his creators' room dying of boredom because he was too sick to join practice, he'd spent them in the most constructive way he knew. Plotting pranks was a _perfect_ way to whittle away his time. There was something about a perfect prank pulled off well that offered a high like nothing else. And what better way to announce that he was finally feeling better than to do it with a SURPRISE! Not wanting to do anything too complicated for his first major bout of mischief, he went for a classic- one that nearly every bot on the planet pulled once or twice in their life time, and yet it never got old. It wasn't too complicated, but always good for a laugh; pour a little bit of Prime Time Washing Fluid (the only brand to use for this kind of prank, since it was one of the few tasteless brands of soap available) into the energon dispensers and let your friends and family drink to their sparks' content. The soap was harmless so long as it wasn't shaken up. Once a bot started moving around- walking or driving- the soap would react. The moment the troupe had started practice that orn, the soap in their tanks had turned to a foaming mess of bubbles puffing out their every vent.

Sideswipe had enjoyed nearly a full breem of laughter as his family stared in horror at themselves. Bubbles had come out of places that bubbles should never be Unfortunately, it had been his laughter that had given him away. Well, his laughter and the fact that he was the only bot who wasn't purging white foam made it pretty obvious who was responsible.

He was snapped from his laughing reverie when Blindside cornered him in another corridor, Skyfly and Clouddrift buzzing angrily in the air on either side of him.

"Only you would find something like _this_ funny," Blindside said sharply, spitting a gob of washing fluid to the floor.

"I don't find it funny," Sideswipe replied, slowly backing away on his wheels. "I find this _hilarious_."

"You won't find it so hilarious when we catch you," Skyfly warned as he and Clouddrift shot forward.

With a screech of tyres on bare metal, Sideswipe spun himself around and took off in another direction. Smoking black streaks were left in his wake. It was the pure thrill of the chase that kept him going. He might have been an untrained performer, but he had plenty of tricks tucked away to keep him out of the hands of his family. He was up on two wheels as he skidded around a corner. Free jumping in alt mode to get up and over a hump of tangled bots on the floor. Dropping low on his shocks to squeeze under Flicker's legs, shaving his undercarriage in the process.

Trying to run for freedom was pretty much like trying to run a marathon and get through a labyrinth at the same time.

But it was worth it!

So worth it!

And as soon as his family forgot to be pissed at him, they'd find the humour in the situation too.

The front of the coliseum came into sight and it was the most beautiful thing Sideswipe had seen all morning. He gunned his engine, going into an all out drag race to the door and _freedom_!

Halfway there, he realized the only set back to his plan. The front door required _hands_ to open, something he didn't have in alt mode. If he slowed down to transform, there was a chance his family would catch him. Skyfly and Clouddrift were already cutting it pretty close as they swooped over him, hissing and spitting bubbles. The roar of angry engines following close behind him let him know his ground-bound family wasn't far behind. As piqued at they were, they'd probably try to strip him to the wires and sell his parts on the black market! Quite frankly, he was too young and too pretty to be black market material!

He was about to force a transformation at the risk of getting caught when a miracle happened. The lock on the front door clicked open. Much to his surprise, the front door started to slide open on its own. Silhouetted in the morning light was a tall, four-legged figure walking with a box balanced in one arm. The director to the rescue once again!

"Thanks, Flip!" Sideswipe howled, zooming passed the centaurian director.

"You're welcome," Flip replied nonchalantly, as if it was perfectly normal to see members of his troupe running for their lives. He didn't even look surprised to see Sideswipe up and active when only the night before he'd been complaining that the separation pangs were never going to go away. As soon the little imp's aft was passed the doorway, the director shifted his box around in his arms and snapped the door closed without further thought. Several loud thumbs came through the door as the collective momentum of the troupe threw them into the heavy metal.

Sideswipe spared only an astrosecond to laugh again before he revved his engine and zipped out into traffic. He might have been a strange bot, but he wasn't stupid. Losing himself in busy morning traffic would be the perfect way of keeping his troupe off his aft. Since his driving experience was limited to the night he reformatted, he kept to the slow lane on the curb to stay out of the way of the faster, ruder drivers who liked to blare their horns and bump from behind.

While driving, he allowed himself to run through the mental list of all the pranks he planned to pull now that he was in his adult frame and feeling so much better. Soap in the energon: _check_. There were about a thousand other things he had yet to try, and now that his spark had finally stopped hurting, he was ready to try them all. Timed ink in the washing fluid was a good one; mix the invisible ink into all the washing soap and when it dries, it dries on **black**. Letting the air out of everyone's tyres while they recharged- another classic. Glue on the recharge berths- a bit tricky with how stick it would get, but still good for a laugh or two. A particularly cheeky one he wanted to try was chalk powder in the driers. The moment someone turned on the industrial-sized driers in the wash racks, it wasn't just air they were going to get a faceplate full of!

So many pranks, and it felt like there was so little time to get through them all!

Until the heat died down on him, Sideswipe decided it was smart to lay low for a little while. He would have to avoid all the usual hotspots in the city. The upper levels were too crowded with bots who were bound to recognized him by his spark signature or by the troupe's brand mark he now wore. It was best to fall back into a place less crowded. He detoured along the scenic route, steadily heading down the levels until he could no longer see the sky. He headed down as deep as he could go until he finally hit the bottom level of Centaurie Tetrax's capitol. It was the perfect place for a bot to get lost in and never be found.

The lights were a little dimmer down at the bottom. It was warm everywhere, but in an uncomfortable sense. The air was thick and stifling, heavy with the permeating scent of must and exhaust. No matter where one looked, the streets were a little more dirty. The bots themselves were painted in dull shades of dark colours, looking scruffy and unkempt. Some were relatively clean even if they weren't in good condition, while others looked like they hadn't seen a wash rack in vorns. As Sideswipe stepped out of the large lift and came into their world, the citizens of the bottom level immediately zeroed in on him with appraising suspicion. Being bright red and in perfect condition, he was a little too conspicuous for his own good. Not to mention the half a spark signature he had- that generally gained him some extra attention.

Clearing his vents nervously, Sideswipe looked up the lift shaft to the safer levels above him. He could go back... and risk getting caught. Or he could stay here... and risk getting his frame stripped for parts by some gang.

He had some really _awesome_ options to choose from.

One of the other bots who had come down on the lift with him gave him a good nudge in the back. "What's the hold up? You're blocking the exit."

"Oh, sorry," Sideswipe said, stepping out of the way. A small trickle of bots disembarked, wandering away until they disappeared into the dim gloom.

A hand snatched at his aft. "You look like you're lost, pretty little thing."

Sideswipe jumped, catching only a brief flash of something dark blue and hunched over before it skittered away amidst chattering laughter.

"_Freak,"_ Sideswipe murmured, wiping at his plating to rid himself of the alien feeling of hands on him.

To get away from grabbing hands and watchful optics, he stumbled into a dark alcove tucked into the side of the walkway. It wasn't much cover, but it was better than nothing. He fumbled with his subspace pocket, dropping a couple things as he scrambled to dig something out. His new pocket was bigger than the one on his old frame and he was still getting used to the different sub-dimensional compression calibrations. It took a little longer than he would have liked, but eventually he was able to find the item he was looking for. It was as cold as ice in his grip, the sharp edges biting into his palm like the bite of an animal as he withdrew it. As a youngling, the ghost-box had been the perfect size for him to handle. Now, it was barely big enough for him to handle without dropping it.

On that damned night in Kaon, he'd flung the ghost-box away hoping to never seen it again. Somehow, it had found its way back to him and he had hidden it from sight ever since then. The one gift it could give him was invisibility, which he needed at the moment. He was willing to take the risk of using it.

"Work your magic, little demon box," he whispered, using his thinnest finger to press the tiny button. The change came over him instantly, a dampening field expanding to disrupt his spark resonance. He disappeared from spark scanners everywhere. Glancing around at the bots milling around on the walkways and driving by, none cast him a glance now. Without a spark signature for them to read, it was as if he didn't exist. He also thumbed some soot to cover his brand mark, disassociating from the troupe in case someone recognized their insignia.

As an added precaution, Sideswipe squinted into every dark shadow that seemed to be watching him. It was not just the normal population he had to worry about. There were far too many strange things in the world that were way too interested in him and his brother. Much to his relief, he saw nothing watching him from gloomy corners. No bejewelled optics flashing from the dark or oil slick shapes dancing across the walls.

He was _free_.

Free. Free. _Free!_

A giddy sense came over him- dizzy and excited at the same time. He had no family to tell him what to do here, no Sunstreaker to be all reasonable and shoot all his good ideas down. No one knew him and no one could read his spark resonance. There would be no one to watch him. No one to eavesdrop. No one to know what cheeky things he could possibly do. Sideswipe could do whatever he wanted!

Now hidden as best he could be in plain sight, Sideswipe slipped from his shaded alcove and merged with the thin crowd milling around. Even if he no longer had a spark resonance, his bright red paint drew a couple curious stares. No one wore bright paint unless they wanted to get noticed. Unfortunately, Sideswipe didn't have the fancy kind of trans-scan chameleon paint that the Autobots were equipped with; they could just scan an object and change the colour of their paint whenever they wanted. The one thing Sideswipe did have going for him was that it was not unheard of for a lord or Council member to send one of their drones down into the bowels of the city to pick up a few questionable things. Sideswipe could easily play the part of a drone.

No one bothered him now.

Guided by curiosity, he wandered down every street that caught his interest. If there was a sign with a neat design on it, a shop with a funny name, or a window with something optic-catching in it, Sideswipe couldn't help but check it out. Shops that sold energon in dusty cubes and a curio shop with every manner of strange knickknacks in it. A shady shop that Sideswipe had crept close to because of the strange things hanging in the window, only to run away when he realized the things were alien skins. There was an alchemy shop hidden in an ally that he couldn't help but stick his head into, coughing on the thick purple smoke that belched from the front door. A music shop whose floor chimed in off-key tones if a customer stepped on certain tiles. An engraver's shop where bots had words and images engraved into their plating.

Over the dull shuffle of heavy feet through the grime-ridden streets, vendors with garishly painted carts exclaimed over their wares, beckoning bots to come see. They parked in every available space- on walkway corners, between shops, hidden in allies. The carts they sold from were all in varying states of disrepair, from the ancient to the skeletal. Layers upon layers of paint were caked on to hide the rust.

There was so much to see that it made Sideswipe dizzy trying to see everything at the same time. He wanted to go in a thousand directions at once.

Turning a corner, he stumbled upon yet another merchant hoking his wares from a covered cart parked up against the side of a building. The bot was a minibot of some sort, but everything from his specific design to what colour he might have been was indistinguishable. His plating was heavily modified in places, and in other places it looked like he was composed entirely of aluminium foil. His paint was replaced with a rough coating of rust, while his flickering optics stared in two different directions. One of his audio dials was missing, exposing a large, empty hole in the side of his head.

"Best high grade you'll ever get your hands on!" crowed the bot. "You're passing up an opportunity you'll get nowhere else! Once in a lifetime, my friends! Once in a lifetime!"

Sideswipe wanted to laugh as he passed around the cart, but he resisted the urge. Drones didn't laugh and he didn't want to draw attention to himself.

"Cheap and delicious- that's what I'm offering you! Fresh stuff! Won't find nothing like it on the upper levels!"

Hot steam from a vent blew into Sideswipe's faceplate, bringing with it the dizzying scent of the high grade, which brought him to a halt. It wasn't as rancid as he thought it might be. Against his better judgement, he turned back to scrutinize the cart and the merchant inside it. It was the type of thing Sideswipe had spent his life being told not to go near. But no one was around right then to tell him what to do.

What was the harm in taking a little risk, right?

Creeping up to the side of the cart, he was careful to keep his features schooled into a blank mask. The merchant instantly stopped exclaimed, fixing his attention to the one customer. His optics still stared in two different directions, neither one of them seeming to focus directly on Sideswipe.

"Ah! What a handsome drone you are! Looking for a cube for your master?"

Sideswipe nodded.

"You've come to the right place! You'll find none better sold for a cheaper price!"

Sideswipe held up a single finger to indicate the one cube he wanted.

Almost faster than the optic could see, the merchant had a cube on the front counter of the cart. The cube itself was a little gritty looking, the liquid inside shining an odd shade of blue-green, but the smell that wafted from it was enchanting. The merchant then leaned so far out of his cart that he was in danger of tipping right out of it.

"You, my fine drone, will not regret coming here. Your master won't regret the high grade, neither. Mark my words!"

A hand that was missing one finger and the top joint to another finger was extended. Sideswipe touched the hand, transferring the appropriate amount of credits. He figured the troupe wouldn't mind if he borrowed such a little amount. True to the merchant's word, the high grade was the cheapest Sideswipe had ever seen. It was cheaper than a lot of stuff he'd ever seen in the market district in the upper levels, to tell the truth.

Payment done, Sideswipe took his cube and wandered around the corner until he found a rundown pleasure house with a set up of benches out front. Selecting a seat, Sideswipe glanced around to make sure no one watching before he cracked the seal on the grimy cube and took a cautious sip. He didn't want to drink the whole thing, lest he become too impaired to drive himself home. A small sip would be enough to quench his curiosity. In the back of his mind, he vaguely remembered several orns before in the aftermath of his reformatting party swearing never to touch another drop of high grade again. He was ignoring that memory.

When the taste of the bootleg high grade hit him, his optics shot wide in surprise. He brought the cube down slowly and stared at its contents.

"_Whoa." _

It was good. Better than good. It was _great. _

The taste was a perfect balance of smooth energon and the added tang of the liquified energy concentrated to a further degree. It went down easy but had a nice bite in the aftertaste. Sideswipe did not happen to be an energon connoisseur, since his only real experience with the stuff happened to be a very embarrassing incident involving dancing on tables and foaming at the mouthplates after, but he would definitely rate the cube a ten out of ten. Maybe even a fifteen out of ten.

He snapped from reverie when he had the feeling of being watched. Looking up, two scruffy bots were leaning against the fence surrounding the pleasure house's courtyard.

"Look, Huffer, a drone getting buzzed," said one bot, nodding toward Sideswipe. "And I thought I'd seen it all already."

"Being down here is bound to drive anyone to drink, even drones," Huffer snorted.

Sideswipe stared them down until they left. As soon as they were out of sight, he vacated his seat and hid the rest of his energon in his subspace pocket. When he went back to the corner, the merchant was still there trying to sell his wares with as much luck as before. It was kind of sad, really. Bots were passing him over because he looked like a crazy glitch. To be fair, he probably was crazy. Sideswipe had heard enough about the lower levels and bots without functions to have an idea of what it did to someone's mind... being in the dark, being without a function... it drove bots a little crazy. But the crowd passing the merchant by didn't even know what they were missing! Despite the craziness of the bot selling it, the high grade was good!

Deciding that this was going to be his one good deed for the orn to make up for his mischief earlier, Sideswipe ran out from around the corner and did a cartwheel right in front of the merchant's chart. Several gasps of surprise sounded around him as bots scrambled out of his way. Popping to his feet, he did two back flips, flashing his lights as he did so. He surprised the merchant so badly that he fell back into his cart. When he came back up, Sideswipe shot him an expectant look.

"I'm getting their attention," Sideswipe said quietly, jerking his head toward a curious handful of bots turning to watch the so-called drone dance. "Come on- start selling things." So as not to lose them, he returned to doing simple tricks like handstands and a couple contortions. Since he hadn't really had a chance to start his real apprenticeship, he had only his downloads and memories of his family to go by for tricks. Thankfully, it was enough to put on a simple show to catch bots' attentions.

The merchant wasted no time getting in on the action. "Come on, bots! High grade this good- it even makes drones dance! You can't waste an opportunity like that! What will it cost you? A couple credits for a taste and you'll be dancing like him!"

Sideswipe beeped and chittered like a drone.

Two bots crept forward, ordering a cube each. They looked wary, right up until they tried a sip. Immediately afterwards, they ordered several more cubes. Sideswipe did an extra fancy flip for them, dancing around them. He might have been playing the part of a drone, but he dropped the flat expression for smiles and charm to lure in more customers. So long as his spark signature was hidden and his troupe mark obscured, he was safe to do as he liked and the crowd could simply guess at who or what he might be.

A small flier dipped in from overhead, laughing as she perched on the edge of the cart and ordered a cube before flying off.

A harried looking engineer smeared in grime hurried over and ordered cubes for himself and all his buddies, quickly taking off again to deliver on the goods.

Sideswipe didn't know how much time had passed since he first began his impromptu show, but soon enough he was turning dizzy from all the jumping, spinning, dancing, and flipping. So much movement was foreign to him still, especially since there was still so much he still had to learn about his frame. Not that he let little things like that stop him. The exhilaration he got from performing was nearly as great as pulling off a perfect prank. He liked how the bots watched him to see what he would do next; the sound of their applause and laughter kept him going long after he ran out of new things to do. The crowd wasn't as big as it would have been at the coliseum, the noise wasn't as loud, but it was all for him. He'd _earned_ it, which was a better prize than anything he could have bought.

"Hey drone, hey," someone called, getting Sideswipe to stumble to a halt. The merchant had come out of his cart, grinning broadly. "You can stop now, drone. All sold out, thanks to you. It's been a long, long time since I sold out of anything."

"Glad I could be of service." Sideswipe grinned broadly, his vents heaving for cold air. Pieces of garbage he'd accidentally sucked up during his performance shivered up his sides and up his neck. He twittered in embarrassment, exhaling as hard as he could to blow the garbage out. His merchant company laughed.

"Gotta get some outer filters on your vents," he said, lifting an arm to expose one of his own vents, which had a thin metal netting welded over it. "Suck up all the garbage off the street if you don't."

"Heh, I'll keep that in mind," Sideswipe intoned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck until he grimaced. His joints were sore, along with his tension wires and hydraulics. He wasn't used to being so sore, but it was a good kind of feeling.

"Was wondering about what you were doing," said the rusty minibot, picking at a rust spot on the side of his faceplate. "Where'd you learn to do tricks like that?"

"Around," Sideswipe shrugged.

The merchant cast him a sly look. "You're not really a drone, are you?"

"Maybe, maybe not," Sideswipe replied cheekily.

"Well, a little bit of mystery never hurt no one in the world," said the bot, extending a hand. "I'm Whistler."

"Side...ways. I'm Sideways," Sideswipe said. It probably wouldn't have been smart to use his real designation.

"Never heard of a drone with a designation before," Whistler hummed vaguely.

"First time for everything," Sideswipe said, smirking.

"I suppose," Whistler intoned lightly, tapping his chin with the finger that was missing its top joint. "Or maybe you're just an imaginary hallucination of mine. Wouldn't be the first time I ever had one of those."

Sideswipe canted his head, wondering if being "imaginary" and a "hallucination" cancelled each other out. Or maybe Whistler really was a couple circuits short from a full circuit board. It didn't really matter either way, because he was starting to like the strange bot. He was a funny kind of weird that made Sideswipe want to smile.

Whistler leaned in conspiratorially. "Tell you the truth, you're one of my better looking imaginary hallucinations. Most of them get damned ugly."

"Oh, um, thanks... I guess," Sideswipe laughed quietly.

"Welcome." Whistler turned his back on Sideswipe and started packing up his cart, folding down the signs and counters, locking several sliding panels into place. "You helped me out a lot today, Sideways. Believe it or not, but I normally don't get that much business down here."

"No big deal," Sideswipe replied. "I liked performing. It was a lot of fun."

"You can come back and have your fun any time you like, as far as I'm concerned," Whistler laughed. He finished packing up and turned back around, his crazy optics still staring in two different directions.

"Maybe I will," Sideswipe said brightly.

"Your master must be getting worried for you by now, though. Been down here a while," said the merchant. "If you are a drone, you probably would have made it back home by now."

"Oh... yeah." Sideswipe thought about his family and wondered if they had stopped foaming by now. There was a good chance they probably would have calmed down by now. They were an understanding bunch... sort of. "I guess I should get going."

"Before you go-." Whistler dug into his subspace pocket and withdrew a flask, pushing it into Sideswipe's hands. "Just a little thank you gift for the show you put on. It's a bit of the better brew I usually keep for special occasions."

"Thanks!" Sideswipe chirped, grinning.

"If you ever find yourself down here again, I'm always on this corner," Whistler said, swinging himself up into the front of the cart and flicking some switches to start a gurgling engine. "Bet I could teach you a thing or two if you stuck around long enough." He winked teasingly before easing out onto the street and chugging away, the back end of the cart belching thick clouds of vapour and exhaust.

Sideswipe kept grinning long after Whistler was gone. He had a feeling he was going to be spending a lot of his extra time down here.


	30. Chapter 22

This chapter is brought to you by _inspiration_. Once the thought of Sunstreaker finally beginning to show his true colours popped into my mind, there was no way I could let it go. We all know there's a little bit of darkness in all of us, but in some of us... well, it's a little bit darker than most. For anyone who has read ahead in the _War Eternal_ series, you already know the darkness is soon going to become Sunstreaker's constant companion. We might as well enjoy the waning light, because the sun is starting to set.

Hopefully I don't end up kicking myself in the ass over posting at the beginning of the week instead of the middle/end. Prove me wrong, readers. Prove me wrong! _Review like the wind!_ 8D

Many thanks so the reviewers of the last chapter: **Leonixon, Transformers 3 fan, Kai-Chan94, SavvyEnigma, Yami Dragoness of Dark, Shizuka Taiyou, Faecat, AutobotSyds643, yoong, Daklog73, Toki1, Poiuni, sockets, Supermoi**, and **SEZwho94**. I know it is sometimes a long wait between chapters, so I thank you so much for your patience between posts!

Special thanks so **Supermoi**, who reviewed so many chapters with so much enthusiasm that I am pretty sure I flew over the moon. =P

Read, Review, and Enjoy~!

**Chapter 22**

Sunstreaker was not really paying attention to what he was doing. He was not thinking of his work, even if it did normally require a certain optic to paint, and he was not admiring the many attractive Autobots doing drills in the open dais in front of him. He couldn't even say his mind was within the boundaries of Iacon. His attention was just..._elsewhere._

Elita One caught on to his distraction, smiling lightly as she dipped her finger into a smudge of blue paint on her paint palette. She tapped her apprentice on the tip of his olfactory sensor, leaving behind a round, blue smudge.

Sunstreaker snapped from his reverie in surprise, his optics crossing as he registered the mar on his perfect faceplate. He pouted as he wiped the paint away. "What was that for?"

"You looked too serious for my liking," Elita replied, laughing a little. She picked up a cloth and wiped away the streaks of blue that Sunstreaker missed. "Mind telling me where your mind wandered off to?"

Sunstreaker revved gently. "Don't know, really. I was just thinking about things."

"Your brother?"

He laughed. "No, he's fine."

"You've been chatting regularly?" Elita enquired.

"Nearly every chance we get," Sunstreaker replied proudly. "Being a stuntbot really suits him- he gets to work off all that excess energy he has. He even mentioned having a side gig somewhere, but he wouldn't say where. None of the troupe seems to know either."

"But you're not worried?" Elita wondered. "As I understand it, Sideswipe has a penchant for getting into mischief."

"I'm trying not to be worried," Sunstreaker conceded. "He's not stupid... not completely, anyways. I'm trying to trust him to make his own decisions without me."

"And what about your friend, the one who calls nearly every other night?" She paused for effect, then said, _"Bluestreak?"_

Sunstreaker twittered, wiggling around. "He and I are really good friends."

"Friends with benefits?" the femme teased knowingly.

Sunstreaker stared in horror. Was the Prime's sparkmate supposed to ask something like that? Was he supposed to answer?

Elita tilted her head back and laughed openly. "Oh Sunny, the look on your faceplate!"

He started sputtering as well, which only prompted Elita to laugh more.

"I've been around for a while, I'll have you know. I know exactly what having a friend with benefits means. I had a few of my own before I met Optimus." She winked at him.

If his jaw could drop any lower, it would be on the ground.

"_So_, you were going to tell me about you and Bluestreak," the femme pressed, nudging him playfully.

Sunstreaker cleared his vents, scrambling for something to say. "Blue and I have been friends for... forever, I guess."

"Those are the best kinds of friends," Elita agreed. "You two have been intimate?"

"We- ah, we've only interfaced like _that _once... on the night I reformatted." Could this get any more embarrassing? It wasn't the subject that was getting him flustered, but the bot he was discussing it with. No matter how hard Sunstreaker tried to forget that Elita One was one of the most powerful bots on the planet, he just couldn't do it. He couldn't treat her like she was just some regular femme who was his mentor. It was unnervingly awkward trying to discuss certain subjects with her. What if she laid awake at night talking about it with Optimus Prime? Sunstreaker's intimate life was not something he wanted them to discuss.

"I take it you had fun?" she asked brightly.

"Um... a lot of fun. It was my first time interfacing like that. Blue was- uh, he was great."

"I bet he was," Elita laughed. "You never forget your first time."

"Yeah..." Sunstreaker looked down at the painting he had forgotten he was working on. It was supposed to be of the Prime Plaza, but the colours were wrong. Much to his embarrassment, most everything was painted in a different shade of _blue_.

Elita leaned over to glance at the painting. "You have really good technique. I can tell you've been practising."

"Thanks."

She smiled broadly. "It's very _blue_."

Sunstreaker twittered lightly, but it ended with a genuine laugh. "It is very blue, isn't it? I think it could use some more colour." He reached over to dip his paint brush across the palette Elita had been using, picking up a smear of rose paint, similar to the shade of Elita's paint, which he dabbed onto the canvas. "There, now it's perfect."

"Not quite," said the femme. "It's missing one important touch."

Sunstreaker stared down at the work of art in confusion. "Like what?"

She dipped the tip of her finger into a small splotch of soft yellow paint and added the colour to the picture. "Like that. Now it's perfect."

They laughed together over their silliness, plotting what they might do with the painting now that it was 'perfect'. Elita volunteered to hang it in one of the conference rooms in the Crystal Spires. It would be good advertising for Sunstreaker's talents. Sunstreaker wondered if it could be hung in Megatron's rooms, if only to confuse the poor mech. Elita agreed whole sparkedly that Megatron was the perfect candidate to confuse with art.

Once their laughter died, Elita checked the sky. "It's getting a little late."

"Not so late," Sunstreaker moderated. "The light isn't completely gone yet. We can still enjoy the evening, right?"

The femme watched him for a moment, then nodded. "Right."

The golden bot grinned, happy to have scored an extra moment with his mentor. Several orns into his apprenticeship, he was truly starting to fit into the rhythm of his new home. It had been hard at first, with Iacon being so different from Centaurie Tetrax, but things were finally starting to come together. Even the Iaconian accent wasn't bothering him so much anymore. Unlike most apprenticeships where the apprentice would stick by their mentor nearly all the time, Elita was an extremely busy femme, so most of her days were taken up with political matters. Sunstreaker was left alone on most orns to practice his techniques in the personal studio that he shared with his mentor, or to sit outside in a place of his choosing to admire the scenery. It was only in the early mornings, the late evenings, and the rare orn when Elita had nothing scheduled that Sunstreaker garnered her undivided attention. It was moments like those that he adored the most... and he suspected Elita One was of the same opinion.

"It's been a while since I've been to Crystal City. I think I'm starting to miss my home territory," Elita One intoned lightly, casting Sunstreaker an arched look.

He couldn't help the excited little grin he gave her in return. "The only way to stop missing it is to go see it."

"True. There is definitely some merit to going to Crystal City." She tapped her chin with the tip of a thin finger. "But as my apprentice, you're bound to go where I go. Are you sure you can spare a trip all the way out to that territory?"

"I'm sure I could fit it into my busy schedule," Sunstreaker replied with mock haughtiness.

"And what about all the pressing matters I will inevitably have to see to? Do you think you could find something to occupy yourself with for all those long, boring orns?" Elita asked impishly.

A brief memory of what he and Bluestreak had done in the private rooms above _Spinning Wheels_ flashed through the young bot's mind. He revved with the thought of how much he would not mind doing something like _that _again. "I can definitely think of some things to occupy my time."

"Well, in that case, I suppose I should bring the subject up with Optimus soon," Elita said, but something told him that notifying the Prime was just a formality. If Elita One set her spark on something, she was going to get it no matter what.

In the background, they could hear the sound of engines growing louder. This did not immediately alarm the pair, since the Autobots were training so close by on the dais. Loud noises were to be expected. However, when the noise kept getting louder, it did draw their attention. At the last second, they glanced up to find three Autobots flying in formation straight for them. Squealing at pitches so high they were almost impossible to hear, the Prime's mate and her apprentice dove for the ground. The jets swept spark-stoppingly close over them; paints, paint brushes, and every other manner of item Sunny and Elita had brought out with them were tossed in every direction from the rush of crosswinds.

Once it was safe to look up again, Elita bolted to her feet in indignation. "What in the name of Primus was that?"

Megatron was doubled over on the dais, his hands to his knees as he laughed himself into a glitching fit.

Thundercracker, standing not far from his commander, face-palmed.

The three jets that had come around in formation transformed back into their bipedal modes, looking quite mortified to have been used in such a ridiculous way. Lord Megatron was known for being a mischievous commander when he wanted to be, but honestly! Could he not find better ways of irritating others than to use his own Autobots as bait? It baffled more than a few bots how someone so bent on causing havoc could also be known as a ruthlessly shrewd commander.

"I demand an explanation!" the femme snarled, scaring the pit out of several bots.

Megatron finally regained enough of his wits to stand up straight and contain his chuckles. "Sorry, Elita One, they got away on me."

"I am quite sure," the femme spat, brushing herself off brusquely.

Sunstreaker huffed, pushing himself to his feet. He took one look down at himself and nearly choked.

"_I'm a mess!" _

The damp paint of his painting had transferred to his front when he had fallen on it. Not only was his painting ruined, but he was ruined as well. His dismay quickly changed to horror when he realized he had become the center of attention- but not in a good way. Not only were the Autobots staring at him, some of them beginning to giggle behind their hands, but administrative bots who were wandering through the Plaza were stopping to see the show. A terrible sinking feeling hit him as his old self-consciousness came back in a flash.

"Sunny, it's not that bad," Elita cooed in an attempt to comfort her poor apprentice.

"I'm horrible looking! Ugly! Don't look at me!" Sunstreaker whined, transforming in a mess of blue and gold. He revved his engine high before shooting off, racing into the Crystal Spires where he could hide in his room for as long as it took for everyone to forget how horrible he looked.

The moment he was gone, Elita rounded on Megatron once more. "Now look what you did!"

"If the bot can't take a joke..." Megatron shrugged.

"Optimus will hear of this!"

"Ohhhh, Optimus Prime, I'm so scared," the Lord Protector drawled sarcastically.

"Chromia will hear of this as well," Elita growled threateningly.

More than a few Autobots drew back in wariness.

Megatron cleared his vents pointedly. "Okay, now I am a little scared."

* * *

"_...and then they were all staring at me, Sides! It was awful!"_ Sunstreaker lamented passionately.

Sideswipe was at a loss at what to do. He dearly wanted to laugh at such a silly thing, but he also knew that doing so would break his brother's spark and that was the last thing he wanted to do. If only they were close enough to offer proper comfort to each other, he could reach out and wrap Sunstreaker in a big hug and let his brother cry for as long as he wanted. Although... if they were close enough to hug, that would also mean Sunny would be close enough to know how much he wanted to laugh, which would probably make the situation worse.

Sunstreaker sniffed sadly, sitting on the floor of his living room staring up at the screen his twin was reflected in. It was such a sad sight- he looked small and vulnerable like a youngling again. _"Sides, you're not saying anything."_

"I don't know what to say," Sideswipe sighed. He looked back at the empty common room he was in. Even if it was only evening in Iacon, it was late night in Centaurie Tetrax. Everyone of the troupe was deep in recharge. Sideswipe sacrificed recharge for the chance to be able to talk with Sunstreaker. A little bit of exhaustion was worth it if only for a few moments to be with his twin again.

"_Say that the whole thing was just a figment of my imagination and that it never really happened!"_ Sunstreaker exclaimed.

"Um..." Sideswipe pursed his mouthplates. "Well... you got all the blue off you! That's good, right?"

Sunstreaker banged his forehead on his drawn-up knees. _"My life is over. I might as well pack up here and move back to the coliseum." _

"Awww, don't do that," Sideswipe sighed. "It's not as bad as you think. Megatron was just, you know, being an aft. Your life is not over." He paused, leaning his elbows on the console. "This is weird. Aren't I supposed to be the Drama Prime? You're supposed to be the reasonable one."

Sunstreaker whined and banged his head on his knees some more.

"Okay..." the red twin sighed. "How about you stay there and show Megatron up?"

Sunstreaker stopped his pitiful whining, peering up at the screen curiously. "_What do you mean? Like creep into his room and paint him while he sleeps?" _

Sideswipe laughed. "No, not quite- but that is a good idea. Do that if you ever get the chance. I meant get up there with the Autobots and show that you're a tough bot who should be taken seriously. You're the apprentice of Elita One, after all. That's hardcore."

"_Have you seen this frame?"_ Sunstreaker questioned, stretching his arms wide. "_I'm not exactly built for strength." _

"But you're fast and you're smart," Sideswipe pointed out. "Remember in the Youth Sectors? We were smaller than a lot of the bots there, but you could fight them like no one else. Don't tell me you don't have a fighting spark anymore."

Sunstreaker looked reluctant. _"I don't know, Sides. Fighting is what almost got me reprogrammed last time." _

"Because you were a youngling, half-bit. You're not a youngling anymore." He grinned his devil-may-care smile. "You've got talents that no one else has, Sunny. You grew up here, with stuntbots. You've seen things no one else has ever seen. That gives you an advantage! One orn, just go out there and show them you're not someone to mess with!"

Sunstreaker offered a tired half-smile. "_Yeah, sure, just go out there. Right." _

"That's the spirit!"

The golden bot rolled his optics.

Sideswipe trilled happily, content to have offered something reasonable to his brother. He couldn't very well have ended the conversation with Sunstreaker walking away still sad. That would have been _unreasonable. _Unconscionable_, _even.

Sunstreaker finally got up off the floor and dragged a chair over so that he could sit comfortably for the rest of their exchange. "_So, uh, how has everyone been over there?"_

"Everyone's been themselves, I guess. Nothing's really new, you know? Only thing different is that you're not here, which is still really weird," Sideswipe replied, touching his chest lightly. The metal was warm with the energy that pulsed beneath. His half of the spark he shared with his twin. "Home isn't the same without you. I miss you."

"_I miss you, too."_ Sunstreaker pressed his hand to the screen.

Automatically, Sideswipe reached out and pressed his palm to his brothers. They couldn't feel each other in the way they were used to, but this was the closest they could get until they were able to visit each other. He was the first to let his hand fall away, bringing a slightly forced smile to his faceplate to brighten up the mood. "Wildride's been teaching me tricks- lots of them. He says I'm catching on to the basics really well."

"_That's great!" _

"Yeah." Sideswipe grinned a truer smile. It had been several orns since he had last landed on his head and he was rather grateful for the reprieve. If he had suffered one more head injury, there was a chance he'd corrupt some of his data and would be forced to go to a medic for some reprogramming. Thankfully, his downloads and practice were paying off, keeping him on his feet and off his head. Wildride made an excellent mentor as well, even if he turned out of be a bit of a slave-driver. Sideswipe leaned closer to the screen. "Once Wildride thinks I'm really good at the easy stuff, we'll move on to the harder stunts. It'll be great. I'll probably be performing small parts in shows soon."

"_You'll make a good stuntbot,"_ Sunstreaker giggled quietly.

"I will, won't I?" Sideswipe laughed.

Sunstreaker glanced over his shoulder, noting the dying light outside his window. He then noted how dark it was on Sideswipe's side. _"I should let you go, Sides. It looks like its getting late and I don't want to be responsible for you being tired tomorrow." _

"It's cool," Sideswipe shrugged. "Before you go, I wanted to ask you something..." Something he had been thinking about for a while, but wasn't sure how to work it into the conversation. Sunstreaker may have been his brother, but he didn't think even his own twin would understand his growing friendship with the downtrodden bots in the lower levels of the city. There were too many negative stereotypes about bots like them to make it acceptable for a young, upper lever apprentice to be friends with them.

"_What is it?"_ Sunstreaker enquired curiously.

"It's just... if I were going to try painting something, what kind of paint do you think I should use?" He peered up at his brother with big wide optics and a calculated expression of pleading that was sure to get him what he wanted without Sunstreaker getting all suspicious.

"_Don't tell me you're thinking about becoming a painter,"_ the golden bot snorted.

"No, just curious," Sideswipe intoned lightly, hoping to sound as vague as possible.

Sunstreaker stared for several moments, bordering on suspicious. _"Curious, huh?" _

"Yep," Sideswipe replied.

"_Really?" _

"...why else would I ask?"

There came several more astroseconds of staring, mounting the pressure to nearly too much for Sideswipe to handle. He nearly squirmed under Sunstreaker's hard stare.

"_Is this for a prank?" _

"No... but I could probably come up with a really good one if you gave me a couple orns," Sideswipe replied brightly.

"_Never mind,"_ Sunstreaker sighed, seemingly giving up trying to figure out whatever Sideswipe was scheming. _"So for curiosity's sake, what are you thinking about painting?" _

Sideswipe pursed his mouthplates a little, thinking on how to phrase the answer. "A vehicle, I guess. Not an alt mode to one of us, but something for driving."

"_I see."_ Sunstreaker pondered the matter, then shrugged. _"If you're looking to paint something that's going to be driven around, I suggest a high-density paint. It's too thick to wear on one of us, but it works well on regular transport devices. If you do several coats and cover it with clear gloss sealant, the paint should withstand scratching and chipping well enough." _

"That sounds easy enough," Sideswipe chirped happily.

"_It is, until you screw something up,"_ Sunstreaker replied with a smirk.

Sideswipe made a face. "I'm not going to screw anything up."

"_Right..." _

"You're such a glitch," Sideswipe sniffed, turning his faceplate away.

Sunstreaker laughed at him. "_I love you, Sideswipe."_

Unable to resist, Sideswipe abandoned his pout for a grin. "I love you too, Sunny."

* * *

Sunstreaker sat nervously in the Plaza with his usual set up of paints and small squares of canvas. Several orns had passed since the blue paint incident and this was the first time he had managed to steel himself enough to go back outside. Elita One was busy for the orn, as usual, so he was on his own. That made him a little nervous, especially when he could hear Megatron's deep voice booming orders to his Autobots while he drilled them on the same dais he had been working them on before. It seemed to be the unspoken agreement of the Prime Plaza that that particular dais belonged to Megatron and no one bar himself and anyone bearing an Autobot decal was allowed on it.

Jets occasionally flew overhead, ranging from the Autobot kind to regular civilians going about their business. No matter who it was, the sound of their engines still made Sunstreaker tense up.

Sideswipe's advice kept haunting him no matter how many times he wanted to shove it to the back of his mind. Being a nervous wreck was driving him crazy. Checking his paint nearly every other breem to make sure no flecks of blue marred him was edging on borderline obsessive. It was actually starting to bother him. This wasn't who he was. He was stronger and smarter than this. He'd seen far more horrible things in his life than any of the Autobots probably ever had. He had watched as one bot ripped the spark out of another while a crowd cheered.

After seeing something like that, Megatron's razzing should be _nothing_.

"You look tense, little one," intoned a voice to his left.

Startled from his thoughts, Sunstreaker glanced up to find Thundercracker standing over him with a handsome smile.

"Oh! Thundercracker, no- I, um... I was just thinking about something," Sunstreaker sputtered, scrambling to gather his things to make his space seem a little more organized and a little less like a disaster.

"It must have been something serious," Thundercracker chuckled.

"Yes! ...no! I mean, um, sort of..." He nearly dropped all his stuff on the ground.

Thundercracker continued to look amused. "Don't clean up on my account- I was just passing through. I haven't seen you around for a couple of orns. Not since... well, you know." He shrugged awkwardly, obviously not wanting to mention the blue paint incident in case Sunstreaker was still sensitive about it. "Anyways, I was wondering how you were, so I volunteered to come give you this." He held out a small chip in his palm.

Hesitating for a moment, Sunstreaker plucked the little chip from the jet's hand and turned it over to inspect it, discovering that it was a completely ordinary chip. He accessed the data and was surprised to find speciality coupons for several major art suppliers in the capitol loaded onto it.

Thundercracker smiled wider at the stunned look on Sunstreaker's faceplate. "It's from Lord Megatron as an apology for what he did the other orn."

"He's apologizing?"

"As I heard it, Chromia made him see the error of his ways. She's very persuasive like that."

"I bet she is," Sunstreaker chuckled dryly. "But Megatron couldn't give this to me himself?"

"And risk actually having to say he was sorry? I thought you knew him better," Thundercracker said dryly. "He _is _sorry that he upset you like he did- he feels bad for ruining your painting and embarrassing you. Public apologies though..."

"Not his forte?"

"No."

Sunstreaker stared down at the chip in his hands thoughtfully. "That's okay, I guess. I mean... he _is_ making an effort, right?"

Thundercracker nodded with a soft smile. "Right."

Sunstreaker set his canvases aside and popped to his feet. "I'll go accept his apology in person and thank him for the coupons."

"That's very mature of you," the Autobot intoned approvingly, offering his arm in order to be Sunstreaker's guide to the dais.

Their walk together was a short one without much conversation. Both bots were becoming so accustomed to the other that they were comfortable to walk together without forcing unnecessary dialogue. Their approach on the Autobot training dais did not go unannounced. The moment Megatron caught on to their spark signatures, he turned to watch them. There was a bit of surprise on his hard faceplate. Sunstreaker revelled in the look of brief shock and minor panic.

"He wished to accept your apology in person, my lord. I couldn't deny him," Thundercracker called from across the dais.

Sunstreaker was given the satisfaction of seeing a bit of disgruntlement come across the Lord Protector's faceplate before it was returned to a neutral facade. He raised a thick arm to wave them over, which happened to be a very unfortunate move to make. An Autobot jet in the air misinterpreted the wave as a signal to move, figuring that the Lord Protector was calling for a repeat of what happened orns prior. Without qualm, the jet dived for Sunstreaker and Thundercracker.

"Aw, slag," Thundercracker sighed, turning to shield Sunstreaker before the poor bot could be embarrassed yet again.

Sunstreaker sidestepped the Autobot, watching the oncoming jet with a narrowed stare. Sideswipe's advice echoed in his head- he was _faster._.. _smarter._.. he could show Megatron up. In his mind's optic, he saw a metal cage stained with energon and two combatants circling each other. He saw Flamestrike moving with brutal precision, hovering on the fine line between genius and insanity. Oddly enough, even as the jet dove closer, he didn't feel panic. The same empty feeling he had felt in the dark of Kaon took hold of him, clearing his head and calming his spark.

"What are you doing? !" Thundercracker exclaimed, trying to grab Sunstreaker again.

Sunstreaker blinked, sidestepping Thundercracker again. He kept his optics on the diving jet, waiting for it to come close enough. There was no fear of being hit, knowing that the jet only meant to swoop low for a scare. It didn't matter anymore, though. Sunstreaker was the one who was going to try his hand at giving a scare.

As if his frame knew exactly what to do before he even had the chance to consciously think it, Sunstreaker felt himself moving. He saw the world as if seeing it through the optics of a stranger. His feet shifted, legs bending, and then he was in the air, long fingers digging into the underside of the Autobot jet. Even if it had been vorns since he last fought anyone, Sunstreaker was haunted by the bizarre knowledge that he knew exactly what he was doing.

"Hey you, get off!" yelled the Autobot he now clung to.

Sunstreaker glanced up, staring at the underbelly above him. It was a beautiful piece of intricate metalwork, all the little pieces fitted together in a certain way in order to have all the pieces move and work like clockwork. It was art. And he was an artist. He understood how such beautiful things were so fragile.

One hand dug in deep, fingertips nearly scoring the metal in a bid to hold on. The other hand released, swinging around into a subspace pocket. A paint brush was brought to bear, its soft brush waving wildly in the crosswinds. A fleck of blue paint still stuck to it like dried energon. Without even taking the time to properly look at the paint brush, he thrust upward. The tip disappeared into a soft spot within the intricacies of the underbelly of the jet.

There came a shriek. The roar of the thrusters sounded too much like the roar of the crowd in the Kaon fighting ring. In the distance, the sound of high, cold laughter rang scarcely on the winds.

Sunstreaker found himself on his feet again, blinking away the momentary lapse. He looked down at his hands, then over to the left where Thundercracker was kneeling to the side of another Autobot. Barely seen on the jet's frame was a snapped paint brush with bedraggled bristles sticking out, a rivulet of energon trickling around it. Surprise was clearly written on both Autobots' faceplates. Sunstreaker gasped as realization of what he had done finally hit him. He had attacked someone- but he hadn't meant to! Or had he? It was strange... the moment just happened, but he had a hard time connecting it to himself. In his head, all he kept seeing was Kaon and he felt the rush that came from winning.

He stumbled backwards until his back hit a solid surface. Large hands grasped his shoulders tightly.

"That was quite the performance you just put on," Megatron intoned, looking down at the little bot he held in his clutches.

Sunstreaker could do nothing to hide the abject horror flaring in his gaze. "I'm... I'm sorry, Megatron! I don't know what I was thinking!"

"Doesn't look like you were thinking at all." Shrewd optics cast a careful look downward, measuring the golden bot for his worth. There was a new interest in that gaze that had not been there before. "You have a killer instinct, Sunstreaker. That's rare."

Ice dropped into Sunstreaker's spark, freezing him and making him sick at the same time. He tugged away from Megatron's touch, shrinking away from the many stares now boring into him. This felt like a thousand times worse than having paint smeared down his front.

"I- I don't have any instinct," Sunstreaker muttered lowly, keeping his optics on the ground. If he wasn't careful, he was going to purge all over the Lord Protector's feet. "I'm a painter. Just a painter. I only like pain...ting."

"I'm sure you do," Megatron murmured.

Sunstreaker shuddered, turning on his heel and making his way from the dais. This was a thousand times worse than before. The first time, everyone had been laughing at the paint and silliness- an incident to be forgotten eventually. This wouldn't be forgotten.

_No one_ was laughing now.


	31. Chapter 23

For anyone curious (or who doesn't remember all twenty-fives years of Transformers history), Avanti, Pipes, Swerve, and Hubcap _are_ canon characters. Shocking, right? You all are probably so used to me pulling random OC bots out my ass that you're shocked when real bots show up. I found these guys and I couldn't resist using them. Their bios/personalities were _perfect_ for the misfits that help Sideswipe during his misadventures in becoming the naughty bot we all know and love! XD

Tonnes of thanks to the reviewers of the last chapter: **DitzyMusicLover, Leonixon, Yami Dragoness of Darkness, Supermoi, TransformersLover95, Pruhana, SavvyEnigma, AutobotSyds643, Shizuka Taiyou, animelover1993, Daklog73, Yoong, Lecidre, femme4jack, Sari sumdac, Faecat, Toki1**, and **Poiseninja**~! You guys are the best! ^_^

Read, Review, and Enjoy~!

**Chapter 23**

For the third time in the last joor, Sideswipe stumbled on a routine that he was supposed to know by spark. He corrected himself quickly, hoping that no one noticed his folly.

Unfortunately for him, Flashdance _did_ notice. He had noticed all three times Sideswipe had stumbled. He was not the most patient bot in the first place, so now it was just wearing on his nerves. And, of course, he was not always the kindest bot when it came to making his complaints known. On their next turn when the dancer came close enough, he swung around hard enough so that one of the fiber optic decorations that hung from his frame smacked Sideswipe square in the faceplate.

Sideswipe yelped, jumping away in surprise.

Flashdance laughed, keeping pace with the routine while the red bot lagged.

Not appreciating the treatment, Sideswipe waited his turn until he could have his revenge. When it came time, he stuck his foot out and let Flashdance trip over it. He was rather pleased to hear the angry curses tossed his way.

"That's what you get for being an aft," Sideswipe taunted, merging himself with the still-moving act.

"If you weren't so clumsy today, I wouldn't have to be an aft," Flashdance countered, waiting a beat before he too rejoined the proper motions of the performance.

"You're not my mentor," Sideswipe sniffed.

"But I am your choreographer."

"Your choreography sucks."

"You suck!"

_"Stop!"_ Flip suddenly boomed, causing everyone to skid to a halt in surprise. Flashdance and Sideswipe's bickering instantly silenced.

Thrillride looked around in confusion. "Did someone miss their cue again?"

"Not quite." Flip clipped one of his forelegs against the floor in mild agitation. "I would say someone's mind isn't in the game today," he said, zeroing in on Sideswipe. When the rest of the troupe turned an accusatory optic on the apprentice, he ducked his head and scuffed his foot against the floor.

"Didn't anyone see Flashdance just assault me?" he grumbled.

"He wouldn't have done anything if you were focused on the task at hand," Flip countered.

Wildride came out from stands shaking his head. "I thought you had this one, Sides. We've been practising it nearly every orn."

Sideswipe shrugged sullenly, keeping his optics cast to the floor. "I'm sorry, okay? Maybe my equilibrium is off or something." He was not about to let his family in on the real reason for his stumbling, which was a mere matter of being distracted by the time. He was eager for the end of practise to come so that he would have some free time to himself. Free time meant that he would be able to go down to the lower levels of the city where he could hang out with his new friends.

"_Something's_ gotta be off in that head of yours, 'cause you really suck today," Flashdance snorted.

Sideswipe stuck his olfactory sensor in the air and snorted haughtily.

Flip frowned, shifting his weight between his four legs. He appeared to be deliberating something, and then he sighed and shook his head. "Wildride, you know I don't normally like to interfere between mentor-apprentice relationships, but in this one case I do think it isn't worth it to keep Sideswipe around for the rest of the orn. If his equilibrium is off, then he's useless to preform." Just the way he said it underscored how much he didn't believe the excuse but was willing to let it slide just this once.

Wildride pursed his mouthplates, glancing back at Blindside who had been sitting with him in the stands. The star-spangled mech shrugged haplessly, leaving the decision up to Wildride.

"Fine, he can go," Wildride sighed.

Sideswipe brightened up considerably. "Seriously? I can go? Like... right now?"

"Yes, go right now- before anyone changes their mind," Wildride ordered.

"Awesome!" the red bot cheered, breaking formation to race from the arena.

"Hold it, young one," Flip intoned, drawing Sideswipe up short. He turned warily to face his director. "There are some stipulations to your early release."

"I knew there was a catch," Sideswipe grumbled.

"If you are going out today, I want you to stop by the medic's office to get your equilibrium calibrations fixed. I want to see a note stating that this has been done," said the director.

"...okay," Sideswipe sighed reluctantly, mind now racing to figure out where he could have a forged medic's note made for him.

"On top of that, when you get back tonight with all your calibrations fully corrected, I will expect you to make up for your absence by cleaning the common rooms." Flip then paused for effect, tilting his head just a little bit. "And I expect you to clean with both arms tied behind your back."

Sideswipe drew back in horror. "How I am supposed to clean if both my arms are tied behind my back?"

Flip arched an optic ridge. "That's not my problem, now is it? You are supposed to be the creative one."

Flashdance snickered loudly in the background, happy that for once it wasn't him getting pegged with all the stupid punishments Flip could come up with.

Sideswipe scowled. He should have known better. Nothing in life ever came for free, especially around this place. If Flip was letting him go, it only meant that he was going to be passively-aggressively punished for it. "Fine, whatever, the common rooms are going to be so clean by tomorrow that you'll be able to suck energon straight off the floors."

"I'll expect nothing less," Flip replied, turning his back on the young apprentice in order to get the rest of the troupe back on track.

Sideswipe pulled one last face at the director's back before he was away into the halls, rushing his way back to the dormitories where he had hidden his collection of paints. It was nothing fancy, just the basic red, yellow, and blue colours with some cans of black and white added just in case someone wanted lighter or darker colours. He figured that all he needed was the basics. The bots who the paints were going to weren't exactly the high-class picky types like Sunstreaker could be about paints. Careful not to disturb the cans too much, he piled them into a trolly and towed it by hand to the front door. Once there, he transformed and got a drone to hitch the trolly to his back end.

With every trip Sideswipe took the lower levels, the drive always seemed to get shorter. When the lights got dimmer the deeper down he got, it was never as unnerving as the last time. He was eager to get to the bottom. It was still relatively early in the afternoon, meaning that Whistler was likely to still be on his corner. While waiting for the lift to reach the bottom, Sideswipe went through all his usual precautions to hide his true identity. He took a red grease stick out of subspace and quickly covered all of his troupe markings. That was followed by strips of wire mesh, which he adhered to the outside of all his vents to make sure he didn't suck up any garbage. In hopes of making himself even less conspicuous, he took out a small pot of regular cloudy white grease and smudged it over his glossy paint to make him look dull and ordinary. Lastly came his most special trick of all. Given that that lift he was on today was empty, he withdrew his ghost-box and activated it. A moment later, his spark signature disappeared.

He came to his stop and disembarked quickly, towing his trolly behind him. He stayed in bipedal mode, moving through the crowd with ease. He was getting used to the ins and outs of the underworld of Cybertron. The bots were a lot more interesting than the ones on the upper levels. There were more hardships when you lived at the bottom, but it made for more quirks in the bots who survived. There was always a story to be told. Their language might have been gruffer, the jokes dirtier, but the friendships felt so much more real. No gloss or show lights or fake smiles. It was a brutal but honest reality. The only thing Sideswipe needed to keep in mind was to be aware of himself and the bots around him at all times. If he wasn't, he was likely to have something nicked from him.

"Whistler!" Sideswipe called the moment he came to the right street. Several sets of optics looked up in curiosity, but only one set happened to stare in two different directions.

"Ah, look who it is!" Whistler crowed above the small crowd of interested patrons around him. "If it isn't my imaginary hallucination! Sideways get your aft over here!"

With a grin, Sideswipe skipped his way down the dirty street. When he was close enough, he released his trolly and did a cartwheel for the expectant crowd, most of whom knew of the red-painted drone that sometimes performed with Whistler. His grin split wider when he gathered a small applause.

"There's a good bot," Whistler said, leaning out of his cart to pat Sideswipe on the arm. "Early today, aren't you?"

"Only a little early," Sideswipe replied with a shrug. "I brought a surprise for everyone, though."

"A surprise? Oh, a surprise! A good one, I hope," Whistler chuckled. "Let me pack up for the orn and we can be on our way."

"So soon? You still have a little time left."

"And only make a couple more credits? Meh, the high-grade will keep until tomorrow. You, on the other hand-," the merchant poked him hard in the chest, "-I only get to see once in forever, so an early end to an orn is perfectly reasonable."

Sideswipe helped with the usual folding up of the cart and locking everything into place. Whistler hopped into the driver's seat and Sideswipe transformed, grateful for a passerby to hitch him back up to his trolly.

"Never said what your surprise was, little drone," Whistler called down to him as he chugged his way through the streets.

"If I said it, it wouldn't be a surprise any more," Sideswipe replied merrily, swerving this way and that to avoid potholes and piles of garbage.

"True, true. Smart thing you are for a drone. Gets me every time," Whistler said, picking at the worsening rust spot on his faceplate.

Their destination was beyond the dingy hub of activity on the main streets of the lower levels. The official name for their destination was "Industrial Shipping Lots", but it was no longer a place for industrial activity. Ships carrying supplies no longer came down this deep into the Cybertron; large open chasms meant for ships to fly down into had been covered long ago. Too many incidents with gangs jumping the ships during descent caused too many problems. The easiest solution had been to cut the lower levels off. The large lots where the ships used to unload still remained. They were the remnants of a time when the buildings of Cybertron did not stand as high as they did now, when there wasn't as many levels to sink down into. While the lots were forgotten by most bots, it was the bots who were forgotten themselves who called them home.

A decrepit fence circled the large area. Beyond the crooked chain-link was a vast area so large that it faded to black in the distance. There was no maintained lighting. The only sources of light were small, dim dots that glowed in mid-air close to the ground, revealing where groups of drifters and merchants who lived out of their carts were squatting.

Ignoring the posted sign warning trespassers that they would be arrested if found in the restricted area, Whistler drove in through a gap in the fence with Sideswipe bumping along behind. Someone had recently left a graffiti sign on the ground colourfully welcoming visitors to "_The Lot of Misfits_". Someone else had come along and spray painted over "the" and replaced it with 'a' to make it "_A Lot of Misfits_." They weaved their way through the staked out territories of other merchants and various questionable bots. Some of them were amiable enough to wave in greeting, while others hunched over their scant supplies and glared until they were sure Whistler and Sideswipe had passed on. The air, which was always dank and bit stale when this far down, took on new scents in the lot; the smell of energon and high-grade being distilled in a variety of ways, each giving off their own smell. Laced through that were the scents of substances more illicit- some sweet, some not. Sideswipe knew that some orn, if he spent enough time down here, he would be able to identify all the substances by scent just like Whistler could.

Each bot in The Lot of Misfists was a unique combination of attitude, disrepair, and a sad story. The miseries of their lives were written clearly across their frames- scars, missing parts, and rust. Sideswipe was learning to read them better and better with every visit to the underworld of Cybertron. From his one trip to Kaon, he knew there were bots in the world who lived in the dark and their sparks were as dark as the world they lived in. Now he was learning that there wasn't just bad things in the dark. Forgotten bots lived in the margins of society. So did the scared ones, and the ones who could no longer find joy in a function and were waiting for their sparks to fade out. There were bots who had been in accidents that had corrupted their data and needed an extensive (and expensive) repair, prompting their company to simply build a replacement bot and let the damaged one go. Bots who had been built for one function only, be it mining or engineering, and their owners were forced to let them go when the economy fluctuated, leaving the poor bots with nowhere to go.

These were the bots Sideswipe might have gone his entire life never knowing if he had never found his way down to the bottom.

Whistler pulled up at the right camp, allowing Sideswipe to scoot to the side and transform. The camp itself was just four rusty poles and a demented roof of collected sheets of scrap metal. Bits of colourful crystal and brightly painted signs stolen from different places were tacked up to give the depressing spot a little bit of cheer. Surrounding the camp were the carts of the other bots who shared the space, some of them merchants like Whistler while others were bots of various trades that were better left unnamed. The carts were much larger than Whistler's, the kind that had berths and comfy seats tucked away in them. They didn't have as much character as Whistler's junk-heap on wheels, though.

Whistler jumped down from his cart and clapped his hand together excitedly. "Got a treat for you all today. A real treat!" He grabbed Sideswipe by the arm and yanked him into the dim light of the single bulb hanging from the tent roof. "Look who it is!"

"Sideways!" came an excited exclamation from a small bot curled up on a bench. "Oh, it's been too long since you came to see us!"

Sideswipe grinned for the bot who had called to him. "Hey Lucky."

"Bring us any goodies, little Sideways?" another voice wondered, coming just from behind Sideswipe's shoulder. Hubcap was already digging around in the trolly, searching out anything that might be worth a few credits.

"Get out of that, it's for everyone," Sideswipe squawked, shooing the dun-painted bot away. Hubcap might have been a handsome faceplate and smooth talker, but he had sticky fingers when it came to items worth credits.

Hubcap scooted away with a laugh. "Nothing in there I wanted anyways."

Sideswipe rolled his optics and took the top off the trolly properly, revealing the cans of paint. He frowned down at the collection, noting that he was now missing a can of black paint. He wondered when anyone had had the chance to nick it off him. Then he shrugged, not too bothered by it. If someone had been that desperate to just steal a single can of black paint from him, then they were welcome to have it. Sideswipe had enough credits to be able to buy more cans if he needed it.

Whistler leaned over the trolly and took stock of the paint. "Planning on giving us a makeover, Sideways?"

"Not you specifically," Sideswipe chuckled. "I thought your carts could do with some touch-ups. Presentation is everything, you know? A nice coat of paint can hide all the rust spots. You might even catch some new customers if you looked better."

"Clever bot," Whistler commended, patting him on the shoulder.

"Clever bots get the special seats," Lucky invited, patting the seat next to hers. "Come sit down here, Sideways. I'll keep you company."

Unable to resist, Sideswipe cut across the camp to immediately plunk his aft down next to Lucky Charms. She was among one of the first bots Whistler had introduced him to in The Lot of Misfits. She was a small bot with a unique colony design, although Sideswipe guessed that whatever company had brought her online first must have been based in Vos, because she did have a bit of a Vossian accent.

Like everyone in the lower levels, she had a sad story to tell; she had once been a merchant who went from colony to colony, only to be attacked by pirates and her frame set adrift in space. Left for dead, her company had built someone to replace her, leaving no room for her to return when she was found. When Lucky did return to Cybertron, her company had given her the option of being reprogrammed and sent to work for a sister company, but Lucky had refused. She much preferred adventure to boring desk jobs. She now worked the most dangerous corners in the lower levels, selling various things from high-grade to drugs to her own personal services. Despite it all, she was still nearly as cheerful as her bright yellow paint.

"So you brought us paint to fix up our carts, huh?" Lucky laughed, nudging him with her elbow.

"Yeah, I thought it was something nice to do," Sideswipe shrugged.

"You're too nice to be down here," Lucky teased. "We gotta toughen you up if you're gonna hang around with us."

"Leave the poor bot alone, Lucky," Pipes admonished, looking up from his latest project. He was a bit of an eccentric when it came to trinkets; his function could be better described as a tinkerer rather than a merchant. Every time Sideswipe came across him, he had a new toy to play with. This time it was a burin, the tool engravers used to chisel marks into bots' frames. It looked like it had been constructed from scratch. Pipes was currently using it to engrave a couple of glyphs into Swerve's broad shoulder.

"Yeah, leave me alone," Sideswipe sang. "I'm perfect the way I am."

Lucky laughed and gave him a good shove.

"So, what are you all doing in the lot already? It's a little early in the afternoon to be calling it an orn, don't you think?" Sideswipe wondered curiously.

"Slow orn," Pipe sighed. "Felt better to be back here tinkering than out there doing nothing."

"Night hasn't fallen for me yet," Lucky shrugged. "I'll start in a couple of joors."

"Ah, well, that's cool. What has everyone been up to since the last time I was here?" Sideswipe enquired eagerly, his gaze raking the small camp. There was always a new story or two to be told every time he came down. With a group of bots as diverse as Whistler and his crew, they were always getting up to something.

"Avanti was arrested again," Swerve said, and then grunted when Pipes dug the burin too deep into his plating.

"Again? For what?" Sideswipe exclaimed.

"The usual stuff," Swerve snorted. "Trafficking mostly. He got caught in the borderlands between here and Crystal City trying to ship off some OZ and Wonderland data chips."

"That sucks," Sideswipe sighed. He was still getting used to how nonchalant bots around here talked about trafficking illegal goods. They talked about it like it was something completely normal. Sometimes they even used it right in front of him like it was as harmless as a cube of energon. He didn't want to admit it out loud, but when he saw things like that he almost wanted to join in. There was something alluring about how forbidden it was in the world he came from and yet how freely offered it was down here.

Swerve made a disgusted noise. "Yeah, well, it wouldn't have been so bad if he didn't decide to race Security Response and then flash a whole bunch of buildings. He woke up a whole block. Stupid fragger. It's not even worth it to try and post bail for him."

Sideswipe laughed, having never had the courage to try flashing. It was hard enough to sneak out of the coliseum at night, but then to make it into the city and turn his high beams on full blast into the windows of some building where bots were recharging? It was trickier done than said. For maximum disruption, blaring horns also helped a lot. There were plenty of bots down here crazy enough to risk getting arrested just for the laugh it would give them to flash others, but Sideswipe wasn't that stupid. Yet.

Hubcap whistled merrily as he heaped all the paint cans into his arms and made his way to his large cart, which was actually a discreet ship transformed to look like a bulky cart. He could afford a ship rather than the usual cart because he had a rather lucrative business as a con artist. The ship came in handy when he was forced to move out of an area quickly when a plot went awry and someone came looking for their missing valuables.

"These paints are going to come in handy," said the bot as he started mixing red, yellow, and blue until he got a murky brown colour that was bound to detract curious optics. He used his bare hands to start smearing the paint along the hull. "I've been thinking of shipping out again."

Pipes glanced up from his work, adjusting the tip of his burin with absent fingers. "Did another one of your customers get wise to you again?" He went back to engraving Swerve's shoulder.

"No, nothing like that," Hubcap replied. "Just been hearing some things from buddies of mine. They're saying Jazz is on the move again and he might be coming this way. I sure as pit don't want to be caught in his way. Maybe I'll go back home. Epsilon is nice this time of vorn."

Sideswipe blinked. "Who's Jazz?"

"An urban legend," Swerve snorted.

"Realest urban legend I've ever come across," Whistler intoned, stretching out in his seat until something popped off his leg. He fished around in the shadows on the ground until he found the piece, beat the dirt off it, and fiddled with it until it stuck back on his frame. He turned to Sideswipe and clapped a hard hand on his knee. "If you're a smart bot, you'll stay away from him. He's not like you or me, see? Cracked right down to the core, he is. Craziest fragger anyone can meet."

"You met him?" Hubcap gasped in surprise.

"Long, long while ago," Whistler replied sagely. "It was during my orns out in the colonies. They was in to some right crazy stuff out there, see? Magic and rituals and trying to do some hooky dooky summon-the-forces-of-evil slag."

"Sounds like a regular night in Kaon," Swerve drawled dryly, which garnered a couple of laughs. Only Sideswipe shifted uncomfortably because he figured bots in Kaon really did do that kind of crazy slag.

"Listen up, now. I ain't blowing exhaust," Whistler clucked. "One night, I was staying at this one outpost and we all got right buzzed on some crazy high-grade some young thing was shipping. Had a mickey in it, I think. OZ maybe. Next thing I know, some demon is ripping right through our outpost like a pithound straight out of the pit. I got flipped right out of the shack and a berth landed on me. Didn't see much after that, but I could still hear some fragged up stuff going on. The bot who was ripping through the place laughed the entire time- like he was crazy or something. When he found the bot he was looking for, he laughed when he hurt him too. Laughed and laughed and laughed, talked real fast and made you feel real small. Like you was a speck or dirt or something. It wasn't until a little while later that I heard the demon who'd ripped through the camp had been Jazz looking for a bot who owed him something. Crazy stuff, I tell you. Never experienced anything like that since then."

Lucky drew back, shaking her head. "That is the most fragged up thing I've ever heard."

Sideswipe nodded his head emphatically. A story like that... well, it was nearly as fragged up as what he saw Flamestrike do to Deadbolt in the fight ring. But still, some freak ripping through a camp was still scary.

"You were on OZ, Whistler. That stuff makes you see and hear all sorts of crazy slag," Swerve drawled.

"Yeah, but it sure as pit didn't make me see a dead mech the next morning," Whistler countered. "I did that all on my own. Saw him all over the place, even. Bits and pieces of him. Ripped apart all painful like and such."

"And _that_, my friends, is exactly the reason why I am getting out of here," Hubcap announced. He looked straight at Sideswipe. "If you were smart, you'd go back to wherever the pit you came from and stay there for as long as possible. Don't get mixed up with a bot like Jazz."

"Not planning on it," Sideswipe said sincerely.

"Frag, I don't even know why you're mixed up with bots like _us_," Hubcap said with a shake of his head.

"You're good bots," Sideswipe said- only to be met with brief laughter. His new friends didn't always think they were good bots, but that was mostly because the world said they weren't good bots. Plus, Security Response thought they were pretty bad, given that the law frowned on selling drugs. He let their laughter slide in order to ask his next question: "What about the rest of you? Are you going to get out of here for a while too?"

Whistler shook his head. "I'll be staying right here. Been here for forever and half and planning ta let my spark fade right in this place, too. Ain't no demon outta the pit gonna stop me from selling my high-grade."

"I think the rust has finally gotten to your processor, old mech," Hubcap snorted.

Sideswipe rolled his optics and turned to the others. "What about you?"

"Tinkerers have it lucky," Pipes said with a smile, sitting back to admire his finished work on Swerve. "Upper level bots don't frown on us so much if we look clean. If I paint my cart up nice and put on a pretty smile, I can hide in the upper levels for a while."

"I'll be with Pipes," Lucky said. "You don't mind Pipes, do you?"

"Glad for the company," Pipes replied, picking up a small cube of home-brewed corrosive to scar the metal so it didn't grow back. He dumped it quick, then slapped a hand over Swerve's mouthplates before the mech could scream. "Take it like a mech, Swerve. You gotta take it like mech!" He shot a crazy grin for Sideswipe. "Gotta love the home-done jobs, right? They always got that extra sting to them."

"Yeah, I bet Swerve is feeling the love," Sideswipe laughed. "If you guys know where you're going to be in the upper levels, give me the address and I can come visit you there. I'll bring whatever you need if you need anything."

"Awww, see that's what I mean about you being too nice!" Lucky teased, snuggling into his side as she laughed. "You're just too, too nice to bots like us. Sweetest little bot I've met in such a long time."

Sideswipe twittered in embarrassment.

"I'll scout around later tonight to check out the regular spots above. If I find something, I'll let you know," Pipes said, releasing Swerve the moment he was done screaming. "Alright Sideways, you ready to get engraved? I think I need a little more practice." He patted the vacated seat next to him cheerfully. His deep purple armour, nearly black, shone eerily under the dim light. Swerve walked away swearing.

"I'll pass," Sideswipe laughed. "I don't own my frame. I have to get any and all modifications approved by my- uh, _masters._" Saying 'troupe' might have given him away a little too easily. But saying 'masters' left a weird taste in his mouthplates. "I don't think anyone would approve of a bootleg engraving."

"Don't own your frame, eh? Too bad," Swerve grunted, rotating his still aching arm. "I hated working for companies like that. Conspiracy, ain't it? We're all supposed to be our own bots but some of us don't even own our own frames? What kind of messed up slag is that? I blame the Council- they totally got the Prime wrapped around their fingers. Greedy fraggers."

"True that," Whistler piped in. "It's like they want to control us all. Treat us like we're some kind of _machines_."

"Oh yeah, it's not like we're robots or anything," Lucky said with a roll of her optics.

"Exactly! We ain't no robots. We got _sparks,_" Whistler exclaimed, missing the point completely.

"It's not a bad life not owning my frame," Sideswipe said lightly. "I get free repairs and stuff all on my masters' tabs. New frames when I need them."

"Yeah, but do you have freedom?" Swerve asked, arching an optic ridge.

"Freedom?" Sideswipe wondered, wrinkling his olfactory sensor.

"We got freedom," Lucky said, leaning back and crossing her legs at the ankles. "No one owns our frames or tells us what to do."

"Free agents," Swerve grunted. "We work outside the system. We're not mindless automatons keeping the machine moving, you know? It's a great life."

"I think I'd miss being clean on a regular basis," Sideswipe chuckled. "Oh! That reminds me, I need a note saying I've been to a medic for recalibrations on my equilibrium! That's how I got away early today."

"I'll take care of that," Hubcab announced with a little wave from his paint-covered hands. "I know a bot who knows a bot who's really good a forgeries. They'll probably be coming back in to the lot in a joor or so. I'll catch them then."

"How much?" Sideswipe wondered.

"For you? No charge," Hubcap said. "The paint was good enough."

"Awesome." Sideswipe grinned rakishly, settling back comfortably in his seat. He really, truly loved it down in the lower levels with the crazy bots everywhere. No one asked any questions about a talking drone or whatever they thought he was. He didn't get treated like an apprentice or a little youngling still too young to understand anything. Best of all, he didn't get treated like he was stupid. There was no one to tell him what to do or how to be. No one was looking over his shoulder.

Pipes looked over at Whistler. "How about it, old mech? Looking to get engraved?"

"On what?" Whistler laughed, looking down at his rust-and-aluminium frame. "You start digging into me and you'll come out the other side."

"Well damn, I'm just gonna have to see who's passed out around here and start practising on them," Pipes said, popping to his feet and collecting up all his attachments to his burin. Before he left, he gave Sideswipe a wink. "Any time you wanna get crazy and do something against your masters, you just let me know. I'll engrave you something real nice." With that, he disappeared into the awning darkness in search of his next victim.

"I feel sorry for whoever he finds," Swerve said darkly, digging around in a compartment in the side of his cart. He pulled out a couple of cubes of high-grade and passed them out to everyone. "Might as well start the night early," he announced, raising his cube in a vague toast before gulping back some.

"I prefer mine with some flavour," Hubcap said, taking out a vial of black powder that Sideswipe recognized as OZ. He sprinkled some in his drink before tossing the vial to Whistler so he could add a little kick to his energon.

Sideswipe stared down at his cube grumpily, wishing that he could try high-grade with OZ like the others. "I still have to drive home."

Lucky's hand came to settle atop of his, bringing his cube down. "We'll not drink together," she said, leaning in close to him. "I have to stay sharp for my shift tonight. Getting a little fuzzy might be enough to get me killed." She stood, bringing Sideswipe with her. "Come on, we'll go for a walk instead."

Sideswipe smiled. "Alright, a walk sounds nice."

"Is it time for a sexy party, you two?" Hubcap drawled, watching the pair wander off.

"You only wish you could have this, Hubby," Lucky joked, shooting him a teasing smile.

"If I had a frame like _that_, Lucky Charms, I'd be selling to the highest bidder," Hubcap laughed.

Lucky sniffed haughtily as if insulted. "Come on, Sideways. Let's go somewhere where our good looks can be appreciated."

"Sure." Sideswipe followed after the femme contentedly, a little dazed to be going anywhere with her. They travelled together on foot across the expanse of the Lot of Misfits, saying hello to some bots and skirting around others. Lucky entwined her fingers with his and skipped her way over to the ruins of some warehouses. It was darker in this area of the lot, much darker than the rest of it where lights from the camps gave a dim sense of security. The only lights in the place they were in now were their optics.

"Why here?" Sideswipe wondered, peering around at the dark shapes around him. Crumbling walls and broken windows. Thrown away parts from ships and carts left to rust on the ground. Shards of broken cubes crunched beneath his feet.

"It's private here," Lucky breathed.

Sideswipe's spark fluttered as he felt the ghost of a caress down his faceplate.

"No one's around," Lucky continued, stepping closer. The warm air from her vents breathed over Sideswipe's front. "No one can hear us."

"I- uh, um- what?" Sideswipe stumbled back, having never expected her to come on to him. At least... not so soon. Maybe later. He kind of wanted to be the one to come on to her, actually. She was pretty and, well, he was damn good looking. They'd make a good pair... but later. Not now.

"You don't have to hide it from me, you know. It's okay, I understand," Lucky murmured, both her hands coming up to frame his faceplate.

Sideswipe squeaked, tumbling backward when his heel caught on some rubble. His legs shot out, kicking Lucky's legs out from under her. They went tumbling to the ground together. Sideswipe landed on his back, stunned to find Lucky on top of him. He thanked his lucky stars that she was so small and light rather than a beast of a machine that could have crushed him.

Nimble fingers came to his forehead, rubbing away the red grease to reveal the decal beneath. Lucky leaned in close to be able to see it in the glow of her optics. "I knew it," she said, coming back down to prop her elbows on Sideswipe's chest. "I _knew_ I had seen you somewhere before! Go figure you're famous."

Sideswipe blinked up at her, mouthplates gaping. "_That'_s what you wanted?"

"Well, yeah. It was bugging me that I didn't know who you were. I didn't want to reveal you in front of everyone in case you had a really good reason for hidding, so I brought you out here." She paused, her optics narrowing. "What did you think I was doing?"

"Um... nothing?" He couldn't help but feel a little cheated.

Lucky popped up onto her heels. "You thought I was coming on to you!"

Sideswipe backpedalled until his back hit a wall. "No I didn't!"

"Yes you did!"

"No I didn't!"

Lucky advanced on him and leaned down right into his faceplate. "Yes you did!"

Sideswipe withered right to the ground. "Okay, maybe a little bit!"

"I knew it!" she exclaimed.

"Good for you!" Sideswipe squealed.

The femme paused, staring down at him. "Why are we still yelling at each other?"

Sideswipe blinked dazedly. "I don't know..."

"Whatever, forget about it." Lucky sighed, scratching the side of her faceplate idly. "So... um, you're a performer, huh?"

"Yep," Sideswipe pouted.

Lucky eyed the decal on his forehead, the one that marked him as a performer for the Centaurie Tetrax Performance and Exhibition Circuit, the premier stunt troupe in the territory. "I've never had enough credits to go see your troupe in person, but I've seen them in the media. They're good."

"Thanks."

"Which one are you?" the femme asked.

"Side..." He paused, squinting at the femme. Did he want to tell her? It was a bit of a risk. Then again, he kind of wanted to see her faceplate when she found out exactly who she was talking to. "I'm Sideswipe."

There came several moments of extended silence. Lucky's optics grew round and bright in the dark.

"_Seriously_? You're Sideswipe? As in... Sideswipe the _twin_?"

Sideswipe nodded, taking out his ghost-box and deactivating it. His half-a-spark signature came back. "Yeah, that's me."

"That is so... _frag_."

"Really? I've never had that reaction before. Most bots are excited," Sideswipe huffed.

"It's not that I'm not excited. I am excited. You- _Sideswipe_- being down here. That's a once in a lifetime kind of thing. But the fact that you _are_ Sideswipe and you _are _down here... that's bad. That's almost as bad as harbouring a fugitive," Lucky groaned. "If the media finds out you've been lurking down here with bots like us..."

Sideswipe flinched, suddenly realizing how bad it might get for the bots down here. "Don't tell anyone, okay? I like being Sideways here. You guys... are cool."

Lucky laughed quietly, stepping over rubble to come sit next to him, taking his hand in hers and leaning her head to his shoulder. "You really are too nice for your own good."

"So you won't tell anyone?" Sideswipe asked hopefully, staring down at the pretty (strange) bot he had leaning on him.

"Your secret is safe with me," Lucky assured warmly, squeezing his hand.

Sideswipe wriggled in the dirt a little. "And since we're alone here, no one around to hear us, you don't think we could...?"

"Don't push your luck."

"Got'cha."


	32. Chapter 24

University is back in session. Last year and I am in the Honours program to complete my thesis so that I can move on to graduate studies. Busy as hell and probably not going to have much time for writing fanfiction. *sigh* For those who read my War Eternal stories, this one among them... it might be far and few between when I get to update. =_=

For those of you who have forgotten the adventures of Sunny and Sides when they were nothing but sparklings falling down a lfft shaft, I suggest you refresh your memories, because there may be a very poignant reference coming up. =P

My most sincere thanks to **TransformersLover95, Deathcomes4u, Leonixon, animelover1993, Yami Dragoness of Dark, femme4jack, Supermoi, SavvyEnigma, DitzyMusicLover, Shizuka Taiyou, Sari sumdac, Daklog73, AutobotSyds643, Toki1, faecat, TheVastraNararda, abarai-san, StarscreamII, yoong, SEZwho94, Lecidre, Cybela**, and **Sayomi178**! This story is in debt to the kindness of your words and the inspiration you create with your wonderful insightfulness.

**Chapter 24**

"So... it's a definite thing that you're coming?" Bluestreak wondered eagerly.

"Almost definite, I'm pretty sure," Sunstreaker replied, perched in his seat with a silly grin. It was late in the evening for him, which meant it was even later in the evening for Bluestreak in Crystal City, but neither of them minded the lateness. Sometimes they could become so engrossed with talking with each other that they forgot what time it was; only when Bluestreak would squawk about his fellow officers starting to rise for the early shift were they forced to hang up and get some recharge.

"Almost definite and you're pretty sure?" Bluestreak giggled, peering over his shoulder while a couple of other officers laughed. Sunstreaker tried to crane around Bluestreak to see who it was. Privacy was not something easily found in Cybertronian workplaces; they worked, lived, and recharged together in the same buildings, using the same dormitories. Each dorm had it's own communication station, but anyone who happened to be in the dorm was privy to the conversation.

"Hey Sunny," one of the officers called, "Are you sure it's not pretty definite and you're almost sure?"

Sunstreaker rolled his optics at the pair of optics floating in the gloom, which was the only frame part he could see from his spot. He recognized the voice, though. "No, I'm pretty sure it's an almost definite thing, Teal."

"Well, so long as you're pretty sure it's almost definite," Teal laughed, then rolled over to slip off into recharge.

Bluestreak twittered, peering at Sunstreaker with a shy smile. "Do you know if Elita One is coming to the capitol or is she going to the outlying provinces in the territory?"

Sunstreaker drew back for a moment. "Oh, I don't know. We never really discussed that part. She just mentioned that we might go and that was that. I haven't asked her about it in a couple of orns." He cleared his vents and shrugged. "I didn't want to bother her about it."

"Hmmmm..." Bluestreak tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I'm not saying that you should bug her about something like this, 'cause I know she's busy with all the stuff she has to do, but maybe you should bring it up when you can," he offered. "Elita One is actually from one of the outer provinces here, so sometimes when she comes to Crystal City she only goes there. My precinct wouldn't be responsible for security."

"I never thought about that..." Sunstreaker murmured unsurely.

"Whenever you get the chance, just ask her," Bluestreak said. "I doubt she'd come to the territory this time without coming to the capitol. It's only once in a while that she doesn't."

"I should make sure, though," Sunstreaker said. "I mean, she knows about you and me, so I don't think she'd take me to Crystal City with her and not go to the capitol. That would be mean."

"Yeah..." Bluestreak breathed.

Sunstreaker paused, casting a shy glance to the officer. He suddenly realized that neither of them had ever really _discussed_ if they were seeing each other or not. Being in different territories and all, without any official status in their directories, not even a real date between them except for that one night at the party... What did that make them? They weren't exclusive or anything. They were free to interface with whomever they liked, but did they have a special place for each other at all?

Clearing his vents carefully, Sunstreaker asked "...there _is_ a you and me, right?"

Bluestreak twittered again, twiddling his thumbs nervously. "Do you want there to be a you and me?"

"Um... yes?" Sunstreaker squeaked.

Bluestreak's optics glittered in the dim light. "I want there to be a you and me, too."

"So..."

"Yeah..."

They both ended up looking in different directions shyly, unable to find the right words for the moment.

"Oh, for the love of Primus!" someone suddenly exclaimed from the background. A thin figure appeared from the side of the screen, shoving Bluestreak to the side. It was Aquamarine, one of Blue's many siblings- the only one working out of a femme frame and one of the highest ranking officers in the precinct. She stared directly into Sunstreaker's optics in that sharp, commanding way of hers. "Sunny, do you like Blue?"

Surprised by the sudden question, it took a moment for the golden bot to gather his wits to answer. Finally he managed to stutter, "Y-yes."

She turned to Bluestreak and turned his head so he looked directly at her. "Bluestreak, do you like Sunstreaker?"

"Of course I do!" he exclaimed.

"Good!" She released her younger sibling from the headlock and stepped back. "I now pronounce you a couple. Congratulations. Now mute it so the rest of us can get some recharge."

"But-!" Bluestreak exclaimed.

"I'll make it an order if I have to," Aquamarine threatened as she stalked out of sight. "I can tell Periwinkle about keeping the rest of the officers up at inordinate joors of the night babbling to your better-looking half."

"That was just mean, Aqua," Bluestreak pouted.

"But a little bit true," Sunstreaker commented lightly. "I am the better looking half of this relationship."

"Not you too! Everyone's being mean tonight," Bluestreak whined, sagged in defeat. To his sibling, he pouted harder. "Okay, fine. I'll only be a couple more breems. Is that good enough for you?"

"As good as it'll ever get," Aquamarine announced from wherever she was laying down.

Sunstreaker giggled. "I guess it _is_ getting kind of late... But, um, we're a couple now, huh?"

Bluestreak brightened considerably. "Yeah, I guess we are."

"About time, right?"

"Definitely." The young officer giggled quietly. "I'll see you when you get here."

"Do you think you'll be assigned to Elita One's security?" Sunstreaker wondered hopefully.

Bluestreak looked down and shrugged. "I don't think so. I'm still a rookie, remember? But I'll still try to see you in between my shifts and stuff. I can still show you all the best places in the city."

"I'd really like that," Sunstreaker said softly, leaning toward the screen. He looked up expectantly to his new significant other. Bluestreak grinned excitedly, knowing what Sunstreaker was hoping for. He mirrored Sunstreaker's movement, bowing his head until his forehead touched the screen. They could see each other even as their optics crossed from the close proximity, touching foreheads in a gesture of affection. Their mouthplates were stretched wide with dumbstruck smiles.

"Sign off already!" someone exclaimed from the background.

Bluestreak jerked back and twittered guiltily before they could properly share the moment. "I guess they're getting impatient on my side," he said. "Talk to you soon, or see you soon... whichever comes first."

Sunstreaker cracked a soft half-smile. "Okay, whichever comes first."

With the press of a button, the screen went blank. Sunstreaker pressed a few more buttons to shut the whole station down. He sat at his seat for a couple more breems and thought about what he was going to do next. The sensible thing was to go to his room and get some recharge. However, the only thing preventing him from doing just that was the fact that he was the opposite of tired. In fact, he was _wired. _He felt like he could stay up the rest of the night and go all orn with a big smile on his face.

He was now in a relationship.

A real one.

With someone other than Sideswipe.

It was pretty damn amazing, really. And he deserved this, didn't he? He deserved to be happy and have normal things like friends and romantic relationships and stuff like that. Bluestreak was the perfect kind of bot for him, too. Blue was... the best. They'd been friends for so long, they knew each other really well, they were comfortable with each other, and Blue had been his first. Elita One was right; you never forgot your first. Plus, he and Bluestreak looked so _handsome_ together! The grey-blue of Bluestreak's paint was almost a silver-like shade, which looked pleasant next to Sunny's own soft yellow-gold paint.

He glanced around his dark sitting room and decided there was absolutely nothing for him to do in his apartments. He was too wound up for recharge or painting. Maybe he should go for a walk? A walk would be nice. A long walk outside in the Plaza or something where he could work off some of the excess energy that was thrumming through him.

Decision made, he popped to his feet and made his way out into the hall. Creeping past Ironhide and Chromia's rooms, he staunchly ignored the sounds coming from within. After having heard them so many times, he still wasn't sure if he should liken the sounds to a fight or very exuberant love-making. Whatever the case, it sounded violent. The walls rattled at intermittent times with the force of whatever was impacting against it from the other side.

Sunstreaker stepped lightly and averted his gaze from the door.

Down the lift, he hit the main floor of the Plaza and was struck by how quiet it was. He had never been down in the lobby in the middle of the night. While the Crystal Spires technically never closed for the night, the activities certainly did slow down. Cybertron was a large planet, so those who ran it could not afford to take a night off.

Around the lobby, the lights stayed as bright as they did during the orn. At the triage desk at the front of the lobby, only a single minibot worked steadily on a keyboard, optics focused on the screen in front of him. A handful of bots still went to and fro with their assigned duties, but none appeared to be rushing as they would have during the normal joors of operation. Very few peered up from their slow paces to eye Sunstreaker. He might as well have activated his ghost-box, that's how invisible he felt. He wasn't bothered by it, though. It was night and the bots working probably didn't have enough energy to do more than what they were supposed to. The less he bothered them, the better he figured he'd make their shifts.

Selecting the emptiest hallway to turn into, Sunstreaker scooted his way down it. It was quiet, just like in the lobby. He stepped out of the way of a cleaning drone and then brushed himself down to rid himself of any dust that might have flaked off the drone. It was a dusty looking thing itself, so who knew where it could have been working?

He wandered into sections of the Spires that he had never properly explored before. Mostly it was the Research Core portion that he avoided. Science and mathematics were not something that he fancied much, so there had been nothing to tempt him to mingle with the scholars and scientists who worked diligently in the small Core study place in the Crystal Spires. Their main Research Core setup was actually outside the capitol in one of the nearby provinces, but it always paid off to make the Crystal Spires look as affluent as possible by keeping a bright mind or two on hand to present a science experiment or lecture on some subject or other.

The second reason Sunstreaker avoided coming into the Research Core section of the Crystal Spires was that he feared the possibility of being made into an experiment. Jetfire had always been a kind bot whenever he came to observe him and Sideswipe, but Sunstreaker knew there were scientists interested in their unique condition who were not so kind. Some were cruel. Others were cold. Many were so engrossed in their work that they tended to forget that social graces were a big part of working with civilian bots. There would always be bots who were interested in what made Sunstreaker and Sideswipe tick. What was the catalyst that prompted their original spark to split? What were their limits? How were they different from regular bots? Could the process be replicated? Was it possible to split sparks in half, eliminating the Allspark from the equation.

That last thought scared the living pit out of Sunstreaker. Could one truly be alive with their spark came from somewhere else other than the Allspark? What kind of monster wanted to try something like that? Who knew what kind of abomination might come out of such an experiment.

Quite frankly, Sunstreaker was content to allow a select few to poke around his bond with Sideswipe to find out how they worked and figure out what they could and couldn't do, but anything beyond that... Nope, not going there.

At night, it was quiet and he was free to roam without fear of being cornered by a nosey, eager bot looking to poke or probe him. The halls continued to be quiet into the small wing the Research Core had. The structure of the place was notably different than the rest of the Crystal Spires; the walls were square and devoid of decoration, covered in a simple whitewash that was stark and plain. It was obviously a much more recent building compared to the rest of the Crystal Spires. It was not nearly as beautiful.

Rounding a corner, Sunstreaker noticed that a very large dark lump was leaning up against the wall halfway down the hall. Upon closer inspection, it was a jet shape- Seeker, maybe? One of the scientists? Sunstreaker nearly turned on his heel and scurried away, but was stopped when the jet turned its head and looked him straight in the optic. It was Skywarp in the hall, who Sunstreaker recalled was the ex-terrorist that now served Starscream like a living drone. Sunstreaker still had not decided if death or slavery was a kinder fate to the bot, even if Skywarp had tried to kill the Prime. Upon the few times that Sunstreaker had crossed paths with the reprogrammed bot, he still wasn't sure if he even _liked_ the mech. There was something creepy about the way his optics were always vague and his mind never seemed like it was quite all there.

Skywarp blinked at him slowly, taking him in the usual vague way he looked at everything. He placed a finger to his mouthplates and made a 'shhhhhhh' noise. Then he beckoned Sunstreaker forward with a gentle crook of his fingers.

Not wanting to be rude, Sunstreaker crept forward until he was as close to the ex-terrorist as he wanted to get.

"Do you know why I'm in the hall?" the bot asked quietly.

"No," Sunstreaker replied.

"It's because Starscream doesn't want me in there," replied Skywarp, nodding to the room that he sat outside of. "He and Jetfire make all sorts of noise when they're in there alone."

"Oh." Sunstreaker wasn't sure he wanted to hear anything like that. He rose from his slight crouch and started to make his way back down the hall. Exploring could wait for another night when Skywarp wasn't sitting in the middle of a hall and Starscream and Jetfire weren't... making noise.

"Wait," called Skywarp. "Don't leave me alone. I'm always alone when no one is with me."

Sunstreaker shuddered, though he wasn't quite sure why. He turned back to regard Skywarp on the floor and decided that the jet didn't look like a threat. He looked nothing like what a terrorist should look like. In fact, he looked small, lonely, and stupid. Walking away on him seemed cruel. "Okay, I'll stay for a little bit."

Skywarp nodded. "Don't worry about being caught," he said. "The walls are insulated so radiation and sound and all sorts of things can't get through them. Spark signatures don't go through. No one knows we're out here."

"I guess that's a good thing," Sunstreaker replied unsurely.

Skywarp blinked. "Starscream doesn't know I wait for him."

"Don't you think he will mind when he finds out you're waiting for him? He doesn't seem like a very nice bot to begin with." Sunstreaker wandered to the opposite side of the hall and he sat down on the floor cautiously. The whitewash floors were wonderfully clean- not a speck of dirt to be seen anywhere. It was a small consolation for the golden bot to know he wouldn't get dirty while sitting in the company of a crazy bot.

"He won't mind. Jetfire might because he knows that he and Starscream shouldn't be making noise here, but Jetfire is too nice to say anything. He just gets embarrassed," Skywarp said slowly, adopting a happy smile. "Starscream is too kind to do anything mean. He'll just order me away and tell me to go mind my own business- but he's strange like that. Always saying strange things like that. He _is_ my business."

Sunstreaker paused, frowning. "Are we talking about the same bot? Starscream is nice?"

"Starscream, who is head of the Research Core," Skywarp rattled off vaguely. "I think we're talking about the same bot."

"Okay, just making sure," Sunstreaker said, glancing at the door to make sure no one was about to come through.

"He's not as mean as everyone thinks he is," Skywarp said, drawing his knees up and wrapping his long arms around them. "He saved my life, you know?"

"He did?" Sunstreaker wondered.

Skywarp nodded, staring at the ceiling. "I was a bad bot before, you see. I wanted to kill the Prime. I used to think that Cybertron couldn't survive the way it is; the power needed to be more evenly distributed. Every territory could be its own nation with its own Prime." He paused, tilting his head to the side. "I don't think that way anymore. I was caught and the scientists took those thoughts away from me. They went inside my head and plucked them all out like little bits of dirt." He made a plucking motion at the side of his head.

Sunstreaker turned away, feeling a little nauseous.

"All my friends that came here with me to kill the Prime had the same thing happen to them. All the bad little thoughts were plucked out of their heads." He kept making the plucking motion at the side of his head as if he had forgotten to stop making the gesture. "The scientists were allowed to send us all away after that. Our lives were forfeit by the law, so they could do whatever they wanted. They could experiment on us like they can't do on regular bots, because we didn't exist anymore."

"They're allowed to do that? Make your lives forfeit and do whatever they want?" Sunstreaker asked weakly, wondering if this was all just a terrible story made up by a crazy bot with half a mind, or if the story was too terrible for someone with half a mind to be able to make up.

"Oh, they're allowed," Skywarp said lightly, letting his hand fall from the plucking motion. "Regular bots sort of know about it, but no one talks about it. That's a rule, you see? Terrible things are allowed to happen so long as it doesn't happen to normal bots. Terrible things are allowed to happen so long as no one talks about them." He tilted his head back down, staring distantly down the hall. "Starscream doesn't like it when things like that happen. He doesn't like the way the laws are, even though the laws have been the way they are for longer than he's been around. He likes to pretend that he doesn't care about anyone but himself, but I know better. I know. He doesn't like seeing anyone in terrible pain." Another vague smile appeared across his faceplate. "Did I mention he saved my life?"

"You did," Sunstreaker murmured. He was suddenly forced to reevaluate everything he knew about Starscream. The bot was an aft and would always be an aft, but at least he could be a kind one...if Skwarp was telling the truth.

"He couldn't save us all from being sent away, but he took me. He said being a scribe was much better than what the others would do to me. Now I follow him around all orn long and do what he says and that's okay because he saved my life." He looked down at both his hands. "He says that some orn soon, he'll give me proper programming. I'll be a real bot again, recognized by the law." His fingers wiggled. "Maybe I'll be a scientist like him. Maybe I'll be an Autobot. The blue jet that bows to Starscream is awfully handsome."

Sunstreaker knew Skywarp was talking about Thundercracker.

Skywarp giggled quietly. "I guess it'll be my choice what I get to be when I'm a real bot again. It'll be nice to have choices again."

"Yeah, I guess it would be nice," Sunstreaker said, not quite sure what else to say.

Skywarp nodded, but then tilted his head to the left. "Choices aren't everything though, are they? Sometimes it feels like we're making our own choices, but in reality we're all puppets and someone is always pulling our strings." He kept staring at his hands, watching his fingers dance. Dancing like puppets on strings. "I know who pulls my strings. Who pulls yours?"

Sunstreaker wrinkled his olfactory sensor. "No one pulls my strings."

Skywarp giggled again, the sound creepy and vague. "No one pulls your strings. No one pulls your strings," he sang. "No one pulls your strings but you still dance. You dance when no one dances with you. A puppet who thinks he's a real bot." His laughter got a little louder. "It's all puppets and strings."

Sunstreaker shuddered, more disturbed now than he had been throughout the entirety of his exchange with the crazy bot. He didn't even know if Skywarp was aware of everything he was singing about, but it was damn creepy no matter what. What scared Sunstreaker the most was the morbid discovery of the violent urge inside him to punch the mech in the faceplate to mute him. His fist was curled tight at his side, ready to fly into the space between Skywarp's optics. It was his own surprise and horror that released the tension from his fist.

Skywarp looked up and met Sunstreaker's gaze with a surprisingly direct stare. "You better go now. Starscream and Jetfire are done making noise now."

Sunstreaker was on his feet before he knew it, letting his legs carry him away as fast as he could manage.

"Hey," Skywarp called after him, even though Sunstreaker didn't pause or turn around. "Thanks for sitting with me!"

The golden bot shuttered his optics and pressing his palms over his audios to pretend he never heard the conversation he just had. He regretted leaving his apartment in the first place. He had every intention of making his way back to his rooms and staying there until the light of orn came, but stumbled to a halt when the muffle of voices startled him from his panic. It was not that bots were talking that startled him, but more the fact that he thought he recognized the voices. One of the voices sounded very much like Megatron's, which sent an unbidden thrill through Sunstreaker's spark. The Lord Protector was yet another bot that Sunstreaker had every intention of avoiding. The way Megatron had taken interest in Sunstreaker's uncanny reflexes was not something the golden bot wanted to linger on for long.

Glancing around, he realized that he was in the wide hall where the offices were located. The Security Response office on one side, the Autobot one on the other. The lights were dim, turned down in this part of the Spires to conserve a little energy. The door to the Autobot offices stood ajar. Sunstreaker fumbled in his subspace pocket for the familiar trinket he hated to need above all others. A little black box almost too small for him to handle. With the press of a button, he disappeared. Now safe from the Lord Protector and whoever he might be talking to.

"I love him, I do. He's my brother, but he's too soft in the spark,"_ s_aid Megatron, his voice getting clearer the closer Sunstreaker came to passing in front of the ajar door.

"Perhaps you should speak with him of this matter,"Thundercracker replied in a quiet and calm tone, subtly imploring for his lord to be done with him. Thundercracker did not want to be there in the middle of the night. Sunstreaker could not help recall that Skywarp had thought Thundercracker handsome, and Sunstreaker had thought the same thing of the jet many times. At the moment, he didn't want to think of anything.

"I speak with him all the time of the matter,_" _Megatron countered, not nearly as quiet as his fellow late-night conspirator. "He thinks I'm joking, which I'm not. We need more power, not art. What can art do to protect us? He should be putting more emphasis on our strength, fortifying the planet, taking care of our own." The Lord Protector made a snorting sound. "He wants to be friends with everyone."

"Optimus wishes only for peace," Thundercracker intoned reasonably. "It sounds like you wish to gear up for war."

Sunstreaker stopped walking the moment he heard the word _war. _He tried to get his feet to move, but they were trapped to the floor as if they had been glued there. It was like Skywarp. Like watching Flamestrike kill Deadbolt. He couldn't tear himself away even if he knew nothing good would come from staying.

"Not war. I don't want a war- not on this planet, not with anyone." He sounded so honest and stricken at the prospect of a war. "What I am saying is that it is best to be prepared. We can't be too soft, especially in these times when we are opening our economies more and more to outsiders. Organics especially. They bring nothing but trouble. Optimus... he doesn't always understand the harsh realities of the world. He's far too ideal about everything."

There came the sound of someone shifting around. Sharp feet clicked on the hard floor. "Have you spoken with Ironhide? What of the others in Optimus's closest circle?"

"They are more willing to listen. The Council is willing to listen. It is Optimus who remains to be convinced, and he is the most important to be convinced since he holds all the power." Megatron sighed. "There is already shifting fashions in some circles that I do not approve of. Cybertronians taking alien sexual pronouns. **He. She. **It's an example of our failing world."

"It is harmless fun," Thundercracker reasoned.

Sunstreaker agreed, but he said nothing. He stayed in the hall and eavesdropped like the ghost his ghost-box made him to be.

"It is disgusting," Megatron snorted. "We are a unified species undivided by the weaknesses of sexual division. What is harmless fun to some is weakness to others. Look at the aliens who Optimus wishes us to associate with and befriend like equals; they cannot find equality among themselves. Their dirty genitalia rule their lives. Males do one thing. Females do another. They are divided and weak. Even the idea of such poison on Cybertron bothers me. It makes _us_ weak."

"You think our world will be ended because some silly little Cybertronians think it's funny to be called 'he' or 'she'?" Thundercracker said sceptically. "I had thought you called me out here for something more significant. Wasn't Optimus Prime your main concern moments ago?"

"He is always my main concern. He is my brother and my Prime. I pledged my life to him," Megatron said. "That is why I worry the most for him. It would kill him to have his perfect world ruined- if not from within, than from without. No one, Cybertronian, alien, or organic should threaten this world."

"True enough," Thundercracker replied.

Megatron rumbled. "That is why I need my Autobots strong. If there is dissension anywhere, it must be dealt with swiftly and efficiently."

"What, exactly, are you meaning to say to me, my lord?" Thundercracker wondered cautiously.

"I am meaning to say that if anything were to happen, I need to know I can count on the Autobots I have to do what needs to be done," Megatron said lowly. "I love my brother, but if Optimus cannot be made to see the light, we may have to take matters into our own hands."

"A coup?" Thundercracker gasped.

"Nothing of the sort!" Megatron exclaimed, sounding horrified. "We will simply be dealing with matters in a discreet manner so as not to alert Optimus that we are ensuring his reign remain peaceful."

"Optimus remains our Prime, but we will what? Operate in the shadows, then?" Thundercracker offered cautiously.

"Exactly," Megatron sighed. "Every Prime casts a shadow, after all."

A small gasp left Sunstreaker before he could censure himself. Immediately he regretted his impulsiveness. Megatron and Thundercracker had undoubtedly heard him, and now they were moving for the door. Thinking quickly, Sunstreaker spun around and dove into the unlocked Security Response office. He was not quick enough to close the door fully behind him.

Heavy footsteps came into the hall.

"You heard someone, didn't you?" Megatron questioned.

"A small sound," Thundercracker said. "It must have been a drone. We would have picked a spark up on sensors otherwise."

"If someone were hiding, we wouldn't be able to."

Sunstreaker felt his spark freeze a little more in his chest, like frost was forming around it. He pressed his back into the wall and shut his optics tight to hide the glow.

"Come out," Megatron called. "By order of the Lord Protector, come out where I can see you."

Sunstreaker was amazed that no one could hear his spark pounding against the inside of his sparkcase. He had no idea what might happen if Mehatron found him, but he had the distinct impression that it would not be good.

From down the hall, there came no sound of footsteps and yet there came the distinct feeling that someone was approaching. Even Sunstreaker, who could not see the hall at all, knew someone was slowly coming closer out of the gloom. It was a similar sense one got when the Prime was drawing near. A prickle along the armour. A certain lightness in the spark. A sensation to be felt but not explained.

"All this shouting because I decided to take a stroll, Lord Megatron?" wondered a soft voice. "I had not thought to create such a stir by coming above ground."

Megatron could be heard sucking back a gasp of his own. "_You,_" he said. "What are you doing here?"

Sunstreaker didn't hear any footsteps or wheels draw close, but when the voice next spoke it was distinctly closer. "I am strolling, Lord Megatron. I already told you that."

"Why stroll here?" the Lord Protector asked, obviously fishing to see what had been overheard.

The mystery bot did not seem to flinch under such suspicion. "Is this hall any different from the others? To stroll here or there is no difference to me." There was a pause. "Is there reason for me not to be here?"

"No, archivist, of course not," Megatron said grudgingly.

"Then you and I shall amiably part ways here," said the archivist. "You may go one way and I shall go the other. We may both call this a chance meeting and think no more of it. Do you agree, Lord Protector?"

Surprisingly, Sunstreaker heard Megatron acquiesce to the idea. He and Thundercracker bowed and then turned. Their clipping footsteps faded into the distance. Sunstreaker sagged in relief, thinking himself saved from a very compromising position. He was then scared silly when the door to the dark office creaked open.

"Come out now, little ghost. The coast is clear," called his saviour in a voice that was soft and inviting, if not a little breathless and haunting. Silhouetted in the dim light of the hall was a bot whose frame was as tall as a general mech frame, but thin and mostly featureless like a drone. Sunstreaker stepped out into the hall and noted that his company only wore a light coat of silver-grey paint that made the frame seem like it was fading away even though it was solid.

Sunstreaker directed his gaze to the floor as he shuffled his feet. "How did you know I was in there?"

The bot placed a long, thin finger to its chin and canted its head ever so slightly to the left. "I know every ghost in the Plaza, but I have never seen you before."

Sunstreaker didn't know if that was supposed to be the answer to his question or if the archivist was simply ignoring the question he had asked in favour of an extremely random statement.

The long thin finger reached that had been tapping against the archivist's chin reached out and poked Sunstreaker in the middle of the forehead. It actually kind of hurt.

"You're awfully solid for a ghost." She smiled. "That must mean you're alive."

"I'm alive," Sunstreaker said, still a little spooked. His hand tightened around his ghost-box, hiding the small black device from sight. He glanced over his shoulder as if he might see real ghosts lurking there. Worse yet, he might have seen Skywarp there singing about puppets and strings again. "There are ghosts in the Prime Plaza?"

"Of course there are," came the reply. It was a very matter-of-fact reply, the same way a bot might say _of course_ Cybertron had two moons, or _of course _the sky was pink. "You believe in ghosts, don't you?"

"I don't know if I do. I've never actually seen a ghost, per se," Sunstreaker murmured with a sheepish shrug. It was the truth, really. Of all the strange things he had seen in his life, he wasn't sure if he had ever seen anything as simple or mundane as a ghost.

"Ah, that is like saying you have never seen the wind," said the archivist. "Not many can see the wind either, but we all know it is there."

"That's true, I suppose," Sunstreaker murmured quietly.

The other bot blinked down at him with a curious expression. "Not be rude, but who might you be?"

"Um..." Sunstreaker shrugged, not sure if he should use his real designation or not. Then he figured he should, if only to be polite. Plus, the bot just saved him from being discovered. There was no telling what might have happened to him if Megatron had looked in the office and caught him lurking there with the ghost-box. Knowing that there was a darker, shrewder side to the Lord Protector made him suddenly a lot more dangerous than he was before. Sunstreaker figured the least he could do to repay the archivist for saving his aft was to give the right designation.

"Sunstreaker," he said. "I'm Sunstreaker."

"Oh, what a pretty designation. Sunny, like your pretty paint." The archivist smiled without any particular recognition, which was surprising. Most bots would know him by his designation alone. There was only one Sunstreaker in all the Prime Plaza, after all.

"You, um- you don't know me?" Sunstreaker asked unsurely. He then figured that maybe it was the ghost-box that was making it difficult to connect the designation to a faceplate. He briefly thought about turning the box off, but thought better of it. He felt safer being hidden.

"Do I?" the archivist wondered, optic ridges arching up. For some reason, it felt like a loaded question.

"I'm Elita One's apprentice," Sunstreaker said quietly, thinking that might be enough to identify him.

"Elita One's apprentice? I hadn't heard of Elita One taking anyone on before now." She paused, quirking yet another soft smile as if there was a private joke to be had. "I don't get out much."

Sunstreaker canted his head. "Where do you work?" He recalled Megatron's surprise seeing the bot. Sunstreaker himself did not recall ever seeing this strange bot anywhere around the Plaza or within the Crystal Spires.

"I work below the Spires, out of sight from the regular crowds," said the bot with an airy tone. "I felt like coming up tonight for a nice peaceful walk. You are lucky I came along when I did."

"Very lucky," Sunstreaker replied, even though he had a sneaking suspicion that luck had nothing to do anything anymore.

"Curious, isn't it? Lord Megatron did not seem like he wanted anyone around. What do you suppose he might have been talking about?" wondered the archivist.

"I couldn't say," Sunstreaker said with a shrug that he hoped was dismissive. He honestly _couldn't _say what he had overheard; he was terrified of repeating it. Even now, his spark raced a little at the thought of what it might mean for Megatron to do as he planned with Thundercracker.

"Ah, well, perhaps it was not meant to be for you to hear such things as the inner workings of such a complex bot," sighed his strange company. "Someone must be looking after you to have spared you tonight. I don't imagine you would have been shown as much lenience as I was from the Lord Protector." There came a pause, then an airy sigh. "I think he's a bit afraid of me. Perhaps he thinks I'm a ghost of some sort?"

She laughed lightly.

Sunstreaker didn't quite laugh, nor could he bring himself to look directly at his haunting saviour.

They started walking together before Sunstreaker even realized they were moving. He could only hear his footsteps clicking in the hall. With a glance down, he saw that his company was walking at the same pace he was, touching down on the floor as he did, but her feet were so small and slim that they made hardly any noise at all. He had to concentrate to hear the ghostly echo of the tip-tap tip-tap tip-tap of her feet that seemed to come too late as she walked, as if the sound was more like an afterthought. Nevertheless, she was a very graceful walker. Watching her profile, Sunstreaker decided that he wanted to paint her. She would be easy to paint a portrait for when her frame had so few features, but capturing her particular haunting grace would be a challenge.

They came to the end of the hall where it opened up into the cavernous lobby. The archivist stopped and it took Sunstreaker several steps to realize she was no longer at his side. She smiled for him when he looked back at her, her head tilting slightly to the left again.

"I think I will be getting back to my stroll," she said. "You have learned your lesson tonight, yes?"

"Huh?" Sunstreaker blinked in surprise, not understanding the odd question.

Her smile stretched wider, a little too knowing. "Be careful when you are wandering around in the dark."

"You never know who you might find," Sunstreaker concluded solemnly.

The archivist nodded. "There's that, and you don't always see the things that are looking back at you."

"That's- um... creepy," Sunstreaker said lamely. It was odd advice to get from someone he had just met. Then again, he had discussed the reality of ghosts with this stranger within the first few breems of meeting her, so he figured that odd things were typical of a conversation with her.

"It is, isn't it? In the morning, give Elita One my regards. It has been a while since she and Optimus have been down to see me. I miss their company." She turned to leave.

"Wait," Sunstreaker called. "Who do I tell them the regards are from?"

"Oh, how silly of me." The archivist turned back, extending her hand to him. "I am Prima Bella."

Sunstreaker touched her hand gently. "That's a pretty designation." It was also vaguely familiar.

"Thank you," said Prima Bella, withdrawing her hand from Sunstreaker's touch. He looked down and saw with a jolt of surprise a flash of colour wrapped around one of her pale fingers. It was a thin chain of gold that looked like it was meant for a bot much smaller than herself. Tiny drops of aquamarine stones dangled from the chain like little drops of energon. It was not meant as a ring, but it was worn in such a way anyways.

"That's a very pretty ring," he said before he could stop the words from falling from his mouthplates.

Prima Bella touched it fondly. "It was given to me as a gift by a very kind sparkling. Now if you will excuse me?" She turned around and made her way back down the hall, gliding on silent feet.

It was not until Sunstreaker got back to his apartments and laid down on his berth that he realized why he had been so surprised to see the gold chain around Prima Bella's finger. He had owned a decoration like that once, but only for a few joors. He had left it in a cavern deep beneath Centuarie Tetrax at the foot of a statue meant to be The First of the Original 13...

"_Prima._.."


	33. Chapter 25: Part I

Well, truth be told, for the longest time I...ran out of inspiration for this story. Hard to admit it, but it happened. I didn't know if there was enough inside me to continue. And then, miracle of miracles, new readers started popping up and reviewing this thing, forcing me to remember all the many joys and inspirations _Surface of the Sun_ has brought me and many others. Just like that, a spark of inspiration came back! Can't say it was quality inspiration, but I think I'm saving that for the next couple of chapters. You know, for when Sunny and Blue get their freak on... _If_ I decide to let them get their freak on. I'm waffling on it, since that might mean the rating of the story gets bumped if I get too graphic...

Waffle. Waffle Waffle. =_=

Nevertheless, I want to thank all of the amazing reviewers of the last chapter. Hopefully you wonderful people are still out there somewhere! I love you all the more if you're still interested in this story after waiting for so long. Thank you so much to **SavvyEnigma, Poiseninja, Yami Dragoness of Dark, Daklog73, femme4jack, Anodythe, DitzyMusicLover, Deathcomes4u, StarscreamII, Faecat, Ladyofthedrgns, Shizuka Taiyou, Prowls-little-angel, bRamble Girl, Dark Glass Marionette, VyxenSkye, luinrina, SEZwho94, thegreatwhitewolf, GemDragon22**, and **Blitz-Kratzi-1**. All of you help keep this story going. Even after I think my inspiration is all shrivelled up, you find ways of reminding me there's still stories left to tell!

**Chapter 25**

A knock at the door startled Sunstreaker out of his doze. Not quite recharging, though not quite aware. It was the closest thing to rest he had been able to achieve all night. He scrambled to sit up, only to fall back to the berth. He had no strength for sitting, nor was there any inclination for it either. Lassitude weighed heavily upon him like a physical weight.

Whoever stood at his door knocked again.

"Come in," he called tiredly. He never bothered to lock the door to his apartment, figuring that living in the Crystal Spires was one of the safest places on the planet. He listened as someone entered, and then his spark resonance scanner announced his visitor to be his mentor.

"Sunny?" Elita One called, wandering deeper into the front room. Her footsteps were a light tapping cadence against the floors. "Where are you, sweetspark? You never showed up this morning. Are you alright?"

Guilt assaulted the young bot as he realized what his lethargy had cost him. "I'm sorry, Elita," he called, attempting to lever up again. Tiredly, he remained on his berth.

He had spent the entire night too scared to fall into recharge. Too many thoughts rushed through his mind to handle at once. Was Megatron a traitor? It seemed impossible. For the many fortnight that Sunstreaker had lived amongst the Prime and his company, Megatron was nothing but equal parts loyal and loving. He was a soldier and a cunning tactician. Smart and clever, but not dishonest. The Lord Protector valued the opinion and safety of his brother far too much to be working against him. _...right?_

Elita One's head appeared in the open doorway of his quarters, peering around in a politely curious manner. Sunstreaker's recharging quarters looked exactly as one might imagine his quarters to look; kept spotlessly clean, the walls boasting of murals he was endeavouring to complete. Shelves were lined with holopics of his family and nicknacks from art stores he was starting to frequent. A lingering chemical scent of paint wafted in the air, paired with the cloying scent of polish and other cleaning products.

Elita's gaze landed on the languid frame on the berth, and her curiosity turned to concern.

"Are you feeling well?" she asked, stepping into the room without an invitation. It was out of character for her to enter anywhere without express permission when normally she was the epitome of politeness; it revealed her concern for her apprentice. She walked to the edge of his berth and sat down, one hand coming to rest on his knee. "Your optics look pale, Sunny."

Sunstreaker quickly bolstered himself into a sitting position. "I..." he thought of whether he should tell a truth or lie. A truth seemed like too much, and a lie did not sit well with him at all.

"I wonder if it was that download you purchased the other orn. Remember that one from the art shop?" Elita intoned, her optics roving his frame as if to spot some hint of sickness. "I thought the coding on it looked a little shady. Do you feel infected, dearspark? It might be a minor virus."

Sunstreaker almost laughed. "It's not a virus, I promise," he said, deciding then that he would settle for a half-truth. "I was up all night. I couldn't recharge."

Elita One withdrew her hand, and then she broke out into a relieved smile. "That's much better than being infected," she said.

"Yeah," Sunstreaker admitted sheepishly, turning his head to peer our the windows that stretched across one wall of his residence. There was little light outside this morning; a front of sulphur clouds had swooped in from the north to blanket the region. Since the capitol sat much higher than the rest of the surrounding territory, its entire zenith was encompassed by the foggy yellow cloud. Sunstreaker could scarcely see the Prime Plaza beyond his window.

"I mentioned that you might be sick to Megatron when I saw him this morning," Elita went on to say. "He suggested that I bring a medic with me."

That wiped the sheepish smile off of Sunstreaker's faceplate real quick. "He said that, huh?"

"Yes, and it's a good thing I did as I usually do," Elita One replied.

Sunstreaker frowned. "What do you usually do?"

"I don't listen to him," Elita laughed. "It would have looked so silly to come in here with a medic when you weren't even sick. I don't want to coddle you at every sign of sickness or you might think I'm smothering you."

Sunstreaker peered up at his mentor, forcing a wan smile to haunt his faceplate. "I had a lot on my mind last night, so I went for a walk. It didn't really help," he admitted, feeling a terrible cold chill shoot through his spark as he listened to his own words. _Half-truth_, he reminded himself. _Only a half-truth_. _Say nothing about Megatron_.

Elita One was too perceptive for her own good. She leaned forward, a small frown gracing her features. "Did someone do something to you when you went for your walk? Did someone try to hurt you?"

"No!" Sunstreaker exclaimed. "No, no, not that!"

Appeased, Elita settled in her seat and waited for the explanation.

"I met someone during my walk," Sunstreaker said, now finding himself faltering. He almost wanted to say that he met Skywarp, but the dark jet was too creepy. Creepier by far than the ghostlike bot who had saved his aft from Megatron's wrath; the archivist who wore a chain of gold that Sunstreaker had once left in a cavern beneath Centaurie Tetrax. Funny that he was less frightened of possible supernatural creatures than he was of his own kind.

"Do tell," Elita urged.

"Prima Bella," Sunstreaker murmured, letting the designation fall from his mouthplates as it had done several times throughout the night. He had repeated it over and over until it became strange and foreign the same way all words did when you repeated them too many times.

Surprise suddenly branched across Elita's feature, her optic ridges shooting up and her mouthplates popping open. "Oh," she breathed, and then offered a tinkle-bell laugh. She looked delighted and humoured. "Oh! No wonder you seem so spooked!"

Sunstreaker did not know if he should feel relieved that Elita One was familiar with the designation, or if he should feel disgruntled because he was being laughed at.

Elita plucked up her apprentice's hands and held them tight, as if to reassure and cheer him. "Brightspark, Prima Bella is the chief archivist for the Crystal Spires. She can be very disconcerting when you first meet her."

The words were a kind balm to Sunstreaker's worried spark. Chief archivist for the Crystal Spires did not sound very supernatural at all. It sounded as normal and plain as a director for a stunt troupe or an ordinary engineer. Sunstreaker found himself less inclined to believe that one of the Original 13 had come to his rescue last night. Surely they had better things to do than trail after him and his brother. At the very least, the idea that one of the Original 13 Transformers was employed under the Prime was laughable.

Now that he was able to think back on his night's adventures in the safety of the morning light, Sunstreaker did not think anything very extraordinary happened... with the exception of Megatron's possible wavering loyalties. He convinced himself that nothing unusual had happened at all. He was getting rather good at convincing himself of things like that.

"You know her, then?" the young bot enquired, steadying his voice as best he could.

"Of course I do," Elita chuckled. "I have met with her on occasion, though Optimus knows her much better than I. He worked under her as an archivist before he was inaugurated as Prime."

That seemed so normal, and yet... "You don't think she's a little strange, do you?"

"Very strange," Elita readily agreed, more soft laughter twittering from her. "She is a very old bot, Sunny. To my mind, she has always lived beneath the Crystal Spires. Very rarely does she ever come up."

"Oh," Sunstreaker breathed.

"You meet bots like her once in a while, but it is rare to find Old Ones quite as old as her," Elita One continued, tapping her chin thoughtfully as she recalled the quiet archivist who exuded an air from the Old Prime Eras. A ghostlike tower of living history. "I think she is one who finds it hard to adapt to the changes Cybertron has gone through, which is why she stays in the archives."

"Yeah, I get that," Sunstreaker said slowly, twining his hands together in his lap. "I think my old director is like that. I don't think he likes the way Cybertron is now. But...he's not as creepy as Prima Bella."

Elita tilted her head back and laughed another tinkle-bell laugh. "Oh, you are too precious."

Sunstreaker wanted to roll his optics. He wasn't precious; he was _gorgeous_. Then he remembered Prima Bella's short message. "She said to give you and Optimus her regards."

"How sweet of her," Elita One cooed. "I'm ashamed to say it has been several vorns since I have been down to see her. It is easy to forget she's down there in the archives."

Sunstreaker wrinkled his olfactory sensor.

"Well," Elita sighed, patting Sunstreaker's hands one last time before releasing them. "I supposed that must have been quite an adventure for you to meet an Old One like that."

"Sure," Sunstreaker mumbled.

Elita One's optics continued to sparkle with blue diamonds. "I think you should take the orn to rest. You can't force art after all, can you?"

"No," Sunstreaker agreed lightly, daring a small smile. "I'll be better tomorrow, I promise."

The Prime's mate slid gracefully from the berth. "That's very good to hear," she said. "If you weren't better by tomorrow, I might have had to delay our flight. That would have been very unfortunate."

Sunstreaker sat up straighter, his head canting to the side. "Flight?"

A cheeky grin appeared on his mentor's faceplate. "Did I forget to mention? I cleared it with Optimus this morning; we will be flying to Crystal City tomorrow and be staying there for several orns."

Excitement obliterated the pall that had fallen over Sunstreaker. He found himself scrambling to his feet without evidence of his earlier lethargy. "Seriously? We're going to Crystal City? Together? Tomorrow?" He took his mentor's hands up in his own and jigged them excitedly.

"Yes, yes, yes," Elita One laughed, overjoyed to bring a new smile to her apprentice's faceplate. "You have today to get ready. We will leave early tomorrow."

"Thank you!" the golden bot crowed. "Thank you!"

"You are so very welcome," Elita One happily replied.

Sunstreaker found that he could hardly contain himself. He was excited to see Bluestreak; excited to see his exclusive so soon after deciding that they were an actual couple. More than that, he was happy to be away from the Prime Plaza for a time. It was his opportunity to escape from Megatron and Prima Bella and all the things that bothered him from the night before.

Elita One looked as if she were on the verge of dancing right along with her apprentice. She kept herself in check, merely watching while the young apprentice expressed his joy with youthful vigour.

"What should I bring?" Sunstreaker wondered, head swivelling around his room to take stock. "What should I pack?"

"Nothing much, I don't think," Elita One reasoned. "Bring small things that you do not think you can do without, like your polish." She was all to aware of Sunstreaker's young vanity, his desperation to be adored for his looks; she thought it amusing and did little to curb it.

"Right, polish, definitely," Sunstreaker replied, all seriousness. He did not dare leave without it. "Should I bring my tablet to work on?"

"Most definitely," Elita One agreed. "Everything else will be supplied for us. I will leave you to consider the rest. I will see you early tomorrow morning. Be sure to recharge well tonight."

"I will," Sunstreaker promised earnestly, watching as his mentor backed herself out of his room and quit the apartment. The moment she was gone, he threw himself back on his berth to bask in his fine luck. Maybe he did not have good enough luck to keep from straying into the path of unusual things, but at least he had enough luck to get him out of those unusual situations when they happened. Crystal City was exactly the kind of escape he needed.

With that in mind, he found himself lulled into a peaceful morning nap and did not wake until the orn was half gone. When he came online again, he packed into his subspace pockets the polishing kit and tablet he knew he would need for the trip the next orn. He was glad Cybertronians were able to travel so lightly. From Elita One, but more so from the complaints of Chromia, he had learned of organic species who required case after case of materials for them to survive. They could not travel from world to world, let alone between the territories of their own planets, without trooping along masses of material. Sunstreaker could not fathom requiring so much stuff, and then not having subspace pockets on his frame to carry most of it. Once again, he was glad he had been created Cybertronian.

Satisfied that he was prepared for his trip in the coming morning, Sunstreaker sidled up to his communications hub and booted it up. He was going to call home. Needed to call home. He had barely sent out the request channel before someone on the other end was answering. Sideswipe's faceplate materialized on the screen, looking strained from his orn of training.

"_Do you have any idea how worried I've been about you?_" exclaimed the red bot.

"No?" Sunstreaker replied.

Sideswipe pointed emphatically to his chest. "_I thought you were dying!_"

Sunstreaker stared down at his own chest, and then back to his brother. "You're over-exaggerating."

"_Over-exaggerate? Over-exaggerate! When have I ever over-exaggerated? I am a perfectly reasonable and rational bot! I dare you to name every single instance in our whole entire lives of when I ever over-exaggerated things!"_

Sunstreaker stared flatly for several silent astroseconds.

Sideswipe's faceplate broke out into a grin_. "Okay, maybe I like to over-exaggerate a little bit. But I definitely knew something was wrong." _He flopped back into his seat to get comfortable. Behind him was the common room, devoid of anyone else. It seemed odd, when usually the common room would be full after training. Everyone would want to sit and relax while chatting with each other.

"Why didn't you call if you were so worried?" Sunstreaker wondered.

Sideswipe hesitated, and then shrugged. "_Because. Just because."_

"You're lame," Sunstreaker replied with an impatient sniff. "Tell me the truth."

Sideswipe made a face. _"Flip said you were okay."_

Sunstreaker frowned. "You believed him over your own spark?"

A new expression cast over Sideswipe's faceplate as he realized that he had never bothered to think of it that way. How odd it suddenly seemed that he was willing to believe Flip without so much as a single question for the old mech. It seemed so natural to trust him implicitly.

"_I guess he made a convincing argument,"_ Sideswipe admitted uncomfortably. _"Someone would have called if something was really wrong with you." _

"True..." Sunstreaker sighed, scrubbing his palm over his faceplate.

"_Is everything alright?"_

"I had a rough night."

Sideswipe's expression turned devilish, while Sunstreaker was struck by a delayed sense of mischief which he knew belonged to his other half.

"_A rough night, huh? Do tell. Give me all the details. Spare nothing of whatever debauched adventures my dear brother has had while running the streets of the planet's capitol."_ The red bot leaned so close to the screen so that his white lightning decals flashed brightly. "_Was it a pleasure bot? Tell me it was a pleasure bot. A high-class one that all the Councilbots would use. Tell me all the sexy details!" _

Sunstreaker narrowed his gaze. "When did you become such a voyeur?"

"_Since when did you start keeping secrets from me?"_ Sideswipe replied, optic ridges raised.

"I'm not keeping secrets!" Sunstreaker exclaimed.

"_Then tell me about the sexy pleasure bot who revved your engine all night long."_

"There was no pleasure bot," Sunstreaker said flatly.

"_Are you sure?"_

"I'm sure."

"_...are you _really_ sure?"_

"Yes, I'm really sure I wasn't with a pleasure bot last night, Sideswipe. Thank you for asking." Absolute deadpan.

"_Well, damn,"_ Sideswipe sighed. _"Ruin that fantasy, will you?"_

"Would you have really wanted to hear the details if I had been with one?" Sunstreaker wondered.

"_Only if you made them good details. And then I would have just taken you out of the picture and inserted me in for my viewing pleasure. I live vicariously like that,"_ Sideswipe shrugged. _"If you were all lovey and poetic and boring, I would have hung up on you."_

Sunstreaker rolled his optics, moving to hang up.

"_Whoa, whoa, whoa, don't be too hasty now,"_ the red bot breathed. _"No need to hang up. You called for a reason." _

"Yeah, I did," Sunstreaker pouted stubbornly.

Sideswipe pursed his mouthplates, twiddling his thumbs absently. He watched his brother for several long moments. Sunstreaker could feel the distant prodding in his spark. They had grown accustomed to their distance separating them so they it no longer hurt terribly to be apart. They only ached when they thought of how much they missed each other. It was only a matter of time before they would be forced back together due to the limitations of their sparkbond; there was only so long they could survive without the other.

"_So..."_ Sideswipe drawled. "_You wanna talk about it?"_

"I- oh...I don't know if I can," Sunstreaker sighed, suddenly deflating. It occurred to him that all the channels going in and out of the Prime Plaza could be monitored. Anything he said might be overheard. No matter how badly he wanted to spill his spark to his twin, he knew it wasn't safe to talk about possible betrayals, looming coups. What he had to say would have to wait until he saw his brother in person.

"_You know," _said the red twin, leaning close to the screen. _"No matter how far apart we are, I can totally feel something's wrong with you right now." _

"I'll tell you later, okay?" Sunstreaker murmured. "I'm going to Crystal City tomorrow. When Elita One is done there, I'm going to ask if I can come see you for a couple of orns. I'll pay for the tickets myself if I have to. I earned a few credits by selling a couple of my paintings. I need to talk to you faceplate to faceplate."

"_Use the troupe's account," _Sideswipe said. _"You still have the access numbers. You know they won't mind."_

"Alright." Sunstreaker dared a smile, cheered by the mere fact that he was chatting with his brother. "I think I just really needed to see you right now. Your ugly faceplate always makes me feel better about how good mine looks. I always feel better after we establish that."

"_If I could reach through this screen to punch you in the faceplate, I would,"_ replied Sideswipe, but he was laughing.

"You love me too much to mar this beautiful faceplate," Sunstreaker replied, stroking said faceplate fondly.

Sideswipe would have replied with an equally stupid comment, but his designation was called from the hall behind him. Flip stuck his head in, peering back and forth between Sideswipe and the active screen. He did not look surprised to see Sunstreaker in focus on the screen.

Sunstreaker felt an odd churning sensation slide through his tanks.

"_Hey Flip,"_ Sideswipe called, spinning around in his seat. _"Sunny called."_

"I_ can see that,"_ said the director, who then inclined his head to Sunstreaker. _"How have you been, young one?" _

"Fine, I guess," Sunstreaker mumbled.

Flip nodded, clip-clopping into the room. He laid a hand to Sideswipe's head. "_You, little one, are supposed to be in the wash racks with everyone else." _

Sideswipe wrinkled his olfactory sensor. "_But I'm clean. I'm fine. I don't need to go to the wash racks." _

"_I will be the judge of that. You're filthy. You're not fine. Go now and get clean, or you'll be cleaning the arena with both hands tied behind your back tomorrow." _

It wasn't a bluff. Sideswipe had seen Flashdance with both hands tied behind his back too many times to want to test his luck. He jumped up from his seat, optics searching his brother one more time.

"_I'll see you when you get here,"_ Sideswipe murmured, briefly pressing his hand to the screen so Sunstreaker return the gesture. A moment later, Sideswipe zipped off into the hall as nothing but a streak of bright red and white. That left Flip in the room, who continued to watch Sunstreaker with his usual enigmatic gaze.

"_I trust your stay in Iacon has been suiting you?"_ wondered Flip.

"I love it here," Sunstreaker replied, faltering only a little on the word _love_. He wasn't sure he loved it anymore. He watched his old director warily, acutely aware that this was the first time he had spoken one-on-one with Flip since he had left Centaurie Tetrax.

"_Something has happened?"_ Flip asked, though it was more like a placid statement.

"Yes... no..." Sunstreaker revved in discomfort. "I don't know."

Flip's expression never changed, save for a tightening around his optics. _"I wish I could protect you from yourself, dear one, but you do insist on walking on the dark side, don't you? You and your brother have a terrible habit of it." _

Bright optics flashed as Sunstreaker stared at the old mech, recoiled in fright. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"_Exactly what you think it means,"_ Flip sighed. _"Be careful, Sunstreaker. Sometimes the monsters that lurk in the dark are closer than we think." _

Now Sunstreaker shivered, muttering with a bitter edge, "Yeah, they could be living on the floor right above your head."

"_Or they could be inside of us,"_ Flip murmured quietly, nailing the young mech with a heavy stare. He blinked and the moment passed. His expression shifted into one that was not quite as shaded. _"I heard in the hall that you were planning a trip to Crystal City. Be sure to check your flight before you leave. Have a good evening, Sunstreaker." _

Sunstreaker glanced at the window. It was still the afternoon, but the sulphur clouds continued to cast a dismal grey-yellow haze over the Plaza. It might as well have been evening. He glanced back at his director. "Bye, Flip."

The screen went dark. Sunstreaker stood from his seat, nervous again. He started for the front door, stopped mid-step, and stared for a short while. His optics narrowed. He breathed a soft curse. His feet started up again while his spark pulsed an odd tempo against the inside of his sparkcase. There was something odd about Flip's words... odder than unusual. A hint of foreboding that beckoned Sunstreaker into the hall. He turned to the door situated next to his.

He banged a couple of times, and then berated himself. He was being stupid. He shouldn't be doing this. Chromia probably wasn't even in her quarters.

The door hissed open, surprising Sunstreaker. He jumped, gaze darting up into the unrelenting stare of Elita One's bodyguard. Chromia was as uncompromising as usual, a frown pulling her frightening features tight as she stared at the interloper lurking on her threshold.

"Yes?" she enquired, though it was more like a command.

Sunstreaker's spinal column snapped straight, bowing stiffly. "I- um- was wondering if you knew what flight Elita and I were taking to Crystal City."

"Of course I do," Chromia snorted, hinting at insult. Wherever Elita One went, Chromia went. Everything that pertained to the Prime's sparkmate was the blue femme's business. Elita One couldn't so much as get her paint polished without Chromia knowing about it.

"Which flight?" Sunstreaker asked, locking his joints before he quivered under Chromia's regard.

A feral slash worth of a smile cut across the femme's faceplate. "You're in luck," she said. "Megatron has agreed to fly us to Crystal City himself in _My Precious_."

"I was afraid you were going to say that."


	34. Chapter 25: Part II

_Sideswipe's "siblings"_ - Cybertronian language, while infinitely more complex than most Earth languages, is limited in the forms of familial titles available. The concepts of mothers, fathers, aunts, uncles, cousins, or in-laws do not exist in Cybertronian language or culture. There are creators, who may or may not hold a parental-like role in the creation's life, and there are siblings (sometimes referred to as _brothers_ and/or _sisters_, although Cybertronians hold no sexual dichotomy to support the titles). Since the familial categories are so limited on Cybertron, everyone within Sideswipe's troupe can be loosely considered his 'siblings' (brothers/sisters), though not his equals. In some contexts, even Sideswipe's own creators can be considered his siblings as well. _This has been Another Useless Fact About the War Eternal Universe! 8D_

For all the reviews of the last chapter... holy crap, I don't know what to say. So many of you reviewed! Every single one of you blew me away! I didn't expect such a strong response! I mean... wow. Just..._WOW_! All of you who held on during the haitus, you have restored my faith in humanity. All the new reviewers who are just tuning in, you guys are reminding of all the reasons to keep that faith intact. Thank you so much to **riah riddle, Anodythe, Kapu37, StarscreamII, thegreatwhitewolf, Blitz-Kratzi-1, Poiseninja, Daklog73, Alangrieal, GemDragon22, SavvyEnigma, Knocks, TransformersLover95, Piper of Locksley, luinrina, FunkyFish1991, Cybela, femme4jack, Wanderling, Leonixon, SEZwho94, Faecat, VyxenSkye, DitzyMusicLover, Dark Glass Marionette, KiaMianara**, and **Farky-fark and the Munky Bunch. **I have more love for you guys than there are stars in the sky!

**Chapter 25: Part II**

Sunstreaker wondered how many levels of uncomfortable truly existed, because he was quite sure he was currently rotting at the worst one.

It was the level at which his spark beat a hard, fast tempo against the inside of his sparkcase while energon blistered hotly through his lines. His tanks would not settle, but instead gurgled with upset. Every articulation joint in his spinal column burned as he continued to sit as rigid as an iron pole. Tension wires in his neck cramped as he refused to look anywhere else except out the window next to his seat in _My Precious_. His optics were straining from being set to the one sight and not allowed to stray for a moment.

His physical ailments paled in comparison to every other discomfort he was currently suffering, all of which defied physical description.

He had Megatron to thank for it. The Lord Protector who had to be so damningly nice as to offer Elita One and Sunstreaker a flight to Crystal City free of charge. Nice? Nice! It was practically a death sentence for Sunstreaker! Now Megatron sat at the front of the ship, piloting _My Precious_ as if there was nothing wrong in the world. He had the audacity to say all the things he said two nights ago and go on pretending that everything was okay.

He was doing a damn good job pretending, damn him!

But, in truth, it was mostly Sunstreaker's problem. He knew it was his problem. He was the one who had eavesdropped. He was the one who overheard things he never should have heard. Now he was paying for it with every moment he spent seething in Megatron's company. It was only a matter of time until someone availed upon him to speak. If Megatron continued to act normal and have a decent conversation, Sunstreaker feared what he might end up saying to the Lord Protector. Would all his thoughts suddenly come spilling out his mouthplates like a word-purge?

A smart bot might have faked recharge just to avoid the chance of conversation. Sunstreaker was too tied up in knots inside to even try relaxing. Deep down inside, he was churning like an angry thunderstorm. Not from his upset tanks, but deeper than that. In the darkness lurking inside of him that he feared and refused to acknowledge. A part of him was thrilled by the danger he knew he was in. A sick, sick part of him that scratched at the inside of his head and whispered to be let out again.

"Sunny," Elita One said, touching his hand gently. It was enough to make the golden bot jump.

"What? Oh..." Sunstreaker's head snapped around so hard he nearly gave himself whiplash. "Did you say something, Elita One?"

"I asked if you've ever visited Crystal City before with your circuit," she asked, laughing at his distraction.

Sunstreaker revved quietly, shaking his head. "No, I've never been to Crystal City. I've seen it, though. Bluestreak shared memories of it with me once."

"How nice!" Elita exclaimed. "I imagine he has only shown you the capitol city column."

Sunstreaker nodded demurely. "He only has memories of the capitol, but I imagine the rest of the territory is nice."

Elita tapped him playfully on the tip of his olfactory sensor. "Remind me sometime to share some of my memories with you. I'm from Crystal City territory as well, but I lived in Quartz province. It was really quite beautiful there."

Sunstreaker nodded again politely.

The Prime's mate cast him a bright smile. "I find it surprising that your troupe never performed in the territory, not even in the outer provinces. Centaurie Tetrax and Crystal City share a border, after all."

"My troupe wouldn't perform there unless invited into the circuit that's already in the capitol," Sunstreaker explained, forcing his gaze to remain on his mentor rather than wander to the Lord Protector lurking ahead of him. "I've seen holovids of the Crystal City performers- they're good. They really don't need to invite anyone from outside their territory to make their shows good."

"They're spoiled. They think they're too good for everyone else," Chromia sneered from her seat up front next to Megatron. She had claimed it when Sunstreaker had turned the offer down. Now she took every opportunity to point out everything the Lord Protector was doing wrong, sometimes before he even did it.

"Chromia!" Elita One chastised.

"It's the truth, Elita," Chromia barrelled on, flicking her hand dismissively over her shoulder. "I know Crystal City is your home territory, but even you know when a bunch of bots are being half-bits. Every time we're in the capitol, there's always something in the media about them causing a scene."

"They're just..." Elita failed to come up with a proper defence.

"It's their director's fault. Gotta be the director," Megatron intoned knowingly. The sound of his voice made Sunstreaker tense up.

"The director?" Elita One wondered politely.

"Of course," said the Lord Protector, who then spat a curse at the small merchant ship flying ahead of him, going far too slow for his liking. The sky above was clear, though it was technically against the law for private aircraft to rise above a certain sky ceiling without a permit; Megatron was Lord Protector, and occasionally the law was beneath him when he deemed the cause appropriate. With a jerk on the controls, _My Precious_ jackknifed.

"You idiot!" Chromia roared, flung back into her seat with her feet nearly flying up above her head.

"Oh, pipe down!" Megatron exclaimed dismissively.

Elita One and Sunstreaker held on to their safety harnesses for dear life.

_My Precious_ came back down very calmly on the other side of the too-slow merchant ship. All engine functions returned to normal, and a moment later it was like the madness never happened in the first place.

Megatron cast his co-pilot an arched look while she seethed at him.

"I don't know why you got your circuits in such a twist," he said. "See? Nothing happened. I was preventing an accident by passing a slower moving aircraft. Would you rather have me rear-end him?"

While the worlds were very reasonable indeed, and no one aboard _My Precious_ was willing to dispute that avoiding a crash was much better than being involved in one, Megatron wore such an expression of smugness that spoke of all the enjoyment he took in rattling his passengers. Particularly, he took joy in rattling Chromia, but only because they were the type of acquaintances who did best when they were bothering each other.

Chromia did not reply, clearly at a loss for words. Instead, she whipped her fist back and landed a solid blow to the side of Megatron's arm.

Megatron reared back with a wounded howl.

"Chromia, was that really necessary?" Elita One sighed.

"Yes," Chromia replied with a concrete finality that defied all argument otherwise.

Elita rolled her optics. "You were saying, Megatron? About the director in Crystal City's capitol-."

"Right, that," the Lord Protector grunted. "Just saying, if the commander in any kind of unit is weak, then the coherence of the unit is weak. Strong command makes for a strong unit."

"That's military strategy," Elita pointed out.

"It applies in civilian life as well," Megatron replied. He turned his head to see Sunstreaker out of the corner of his optic; Sunstreaker could see him looking, but refused to look away from the window. "Sunstreaker can vouch for this, can't you?"

Golden plating tensed.

"Well?" Megatron drawled. "Tell me, if the director of a troupe lacks control over his stuntbots, then the whole troupe simply falls apart, am I right?"

Reluctantly, Sunstreaker pealed his gaze away from the window and gave a jerky nod. "Stuntbots are nothing without a director," he said, finding that his voice sounded surprisingly steady for the amount of tension that was riding him. "I think it's part of the programming for a stuntbot. You listen to the director no matter what. If the director is a bad one, then..." He shrugged.

"Exactly my point," Megatron said.

Elita canted her head in Sunstreaker's direction. "I haven't met with your director for any length of time, Sunny, but I take it he has very good control of the troupe he directs."

"Flip?" Sunstreaker asked, almost laughing and shivering at the same time. "He's a tyrant. The best director any bot could ever ask for, but he's not easy to live with otherwise. It's all practice, practise, practise with him, and he knows when you're goofing off. No one gets away with anything."

"He sounds like a good director," Megatron proclaimed confidently.

"He is," Sunstreaker agreed quietly.

A moment later, their conversation veered into another topic regarding Crystal City. Sunstreaker let it go over his head. He did not care what they were talking, and it did not seem like the three older bots in the ship minded his distraction. The sky passed by in an uninteresting haze, obscured occasionally by a yellow mass of sulphurous cloud. When cloud cover was heavy, the heights to the airways were generally adjusted; slower moving traffic meant to stay beneath the clouds while highway airway traffic was raised to be above the ceiling of the clouds to prevent as many accidents as possible.

When a hole opened up in the shifting masses, Sunstreaker could see down to the land below. Not that there was much to look at. The outer provinces of Iacon looked much like the outer provinces of any territory, with low buildings and a quiet demeanour. Jaded by the grandeur of the capitol he grew up in, Sunstreaker had little appreciation for any province on Cybertron. Though he had toured the provinces in Centaurie Tetrax with his troupe while they travelled the circuit, they had never possessed the same life and activity that the capitols held. Not as colourful. Not as populated. Never as interesting.

His attention wandered back to the interior of _My Precious_ as Elita One's voice chimed in his audio.

"Oh, Megatron, Chromia, I forgot to tell you the other orn! Did you hear who came up from the archives a couple nights ago?"

Sunstreaker jerked in his seat, head whipping around so fast it cramped the tension wires in his neck.

"Let me guess," Chromia intoned dryly. "One of those decrepit archivists you keep locked beneath the Plaza like prisoners?"

"They're not prisoners," Elita One replied. "They are good and loyal employees of the Prime who just..."

"Happen to hate sunlight, freedom, and large, open spaces?"

"You are a regular comedian, Chromia," Elita drawled.

"Did you read my contract? It's part of the job description," Chromia replied.

While Elita managed a free laugh, the noise that came out of Sunstreaker was strangled. Megatron made no noise at all.

"Tell us, Elita. Who came up from the archives?" the Lord Protector asked.

"Prima Bella," Elita exclaimed, her hand reaching over to hold Sunstreaker's cheerfully. Sunstreaker could not force himself to pull away. Noise oddly became muffled in his audios while his vision narrowed to a pinprick no bigger than the back of Megatron's head. His imagination filled in what the Lord Protector's faceplate might look like. Oh Primus, is that the taste of his spark in his mouthplates? Two astroseconds from now, he was probably going to purge it all over the floor.

Chromia paused for a moment, now picking up on the sudden tension electrifying _My Precious_'s insides. Her optics flicked to Megatron, and then she craned around to land Sunstreaker with an arched look.

"Prima Bella, huh?" the dusky blue femme said.

"Yes, isn't that odd? It's been vorns since I've been down to see her. Oh, it's probably been vorns since I've even thought of her! I know that's horrible to admit, but..." Elita shrugged in embarrassment.

"Not as bad as what I was thinking," Chromia admitted. "I thought she was dead already and no one bothered to mention it. Your creepy archivists probably propped her up in a corner and kept working."

"They're not creepy and she's not dead," Elita One countered, followed by the worst thing she could ever possibly do: she appealed to her apprentice. "Sunstreaker, tell Chromia that Prima Bella is not dead. You saw her with your own optics while you were out for that walk the other night."

_My Precious_ suddenly took a violent nosedive.

"Megatron, what the pit are you doing?" Chromia howled, gripping on to her seat so fiercely she left gouges from her claws. "Where did you learn to fly, you dolt?"

Luckily for everyone's safety in the airways, the stretch of sky they were currently flying through was mostly empty.

A noise that was quite possibly a savage curse in the guise of a rough growl rumbled from deep in Megatron's chest. He righted the aircraft, engaged autopilot, and spun his seat around. Chromia continued to rant for two more sentences before deciding that her scathing remarks would be more effective if she were facing the same direction as the mech who her insults were meant for. Her seat creaked around and she spat her final breath of vitriol.

"-If you don't get a grip on yourself and your flying abilities soon, I am going to throw you out the hatch and fly this damn ship to Crystal City myself. And believe me, I will hit every piece of air debris I can along the way just so I can watch you cry over the scratches-."

For all the horror that a threat like that would normally instil, Megatron did not so much as flinch. His steely gaze landed on Sunstreaker with the piercing intensity of lasers. In that moment, Sunstreaker knew that he had been caught. Worse than that, it had been his own mentor to give him up and she had no clue that she had just ordered his own painful death.

"Honestly, Megatron, just because you transform into a jet doesn't mean you know how to fly one," Elita One chastised, adjusting her safety belt so that it did not bite under the plates covering her shoulders.

"My apologies, Elita One," Megatron murmured, though his gaze had yet to stray from his intended target.

Sunstreaker flinched, too aware of the fact that when Megatron turned formal he turned dangerous.

Chromia also watched Sunstreaker, though she was not as intense. More like curious...the same way a predator was curious about the prey trapped between its claws, moments away from death.

"You look like you're going to purge, little one," observed the blue femme.

"That...last...jerk..." Sunstreaker croaked out. "I think I'm going to be sick."

"Right," said the femme. "Aim that way." She pointed directly at Megatron.

"So you saw Prima Bella the other night?" Megatron enquired, ignoring Chromia.

Sunstreaker managed a shaky nod. The level of uncomfortable he had been riding was now plummeting at an unprecedented rate. If he had believed he had sunk as low as he could possibly go before, he had been wrong. He hadn't even been close to the bottom.

Even worse was the thrill that bubbled through his frame. Knowing the danger he was in and wanting to suddenly let loose in it. A powerful and panicked feeling that made him want to jump up, run, transform, scream...anything. He wasn't sure what he wanted. He could barely think while the weight of the Lord Protector's gaze bore down on him.

"Where did you happen to come across her?"

Sunstreaker opened his mouthplates, and then closed them. Elita made a small noise when he clenched her hand too tightly. He let her go with a snap, as if his fingers were suddenly spring-loaded.

"In the lobby," he breathed lowly. "We met in the lobby, spoke for a bit. She told me to give her regards to Elita and Optimus."

"Indeed," Megatron intoned shrewdly. "Is that all?"

"Yes."

Now it was time for Elita to frown. She was not oblivious to the tension, and now she had finally reached the end of her tolerance for it. As a politician, she had trained herself for the usual forms of tension inherent in bringing together powerful bots into one place, but there was only so much she was willing to take when trapped in an enclosed space. Particularly when such weight is invested in the unquestionable innocence of her apprentice.

"Megatron, I was not aware there were grounds for this conversation to suddenly become an interrogation." There was steel in her voice, more cutting than any sword.

"It's not an interrogation," Megatron assured.

"Then you would do well to turn around in your seat right now and stop acting like Sunstreaker suddenly admitted to being a terrorist. He's done nothing wrong, and I can't imagine why you would be acting this way."

"It's nothing," Megatron said evenly.

"Then turn around."

One grey steel optic ridge shot up. It was hard to tell if it was in humour or incredulity. "Is that an order?"

"I outrank you, so I do imagine I could make it an order if need be." It was quite clear in that moment who held all the power. While both Chromia and Megatron were armed to the hilt, physically powerful and mentally agile in all the ways that would make them deadly in a fight, Elita One was the second most powerful bot on Cybertron.

Chromia crossed her arms over her chassis. "I'd be happy to enforce any order you make, Elita."

A long moment passed while Megatron came to grips with himself. He dragged in a huge draft of air, held it for a moment, and then released it in a whoosh. Tension drained from his frame while a convincing façade fell over his features. A handsome smile darted at the edges of his mouthplates, sheepish and apologetic.

"No need to make it an order, Elita," Megatron chuckled. "Guess I got my circuits in a knot for nothing."

Elita was not so easily appeased. "You have a habit of that."

"When you are the Lord Protector of a planet, the things you see and do have a way of coming back to you in the oddest ways. They always haunt you."

"I bet they do," Sunstreaker breathed, too low for anyone to hear, but the way Megatron's gaze wandered back to him, spearing straight through him, it made him question whether or not the Lord Protector had caught something. There was no doubt that this passing moment was not over. A promise lit the harsh blue light of the Lord Protector's gaze. Some time soon, Sunstreaker was going to be trapped alone with the Prime's younger brother, and then they were going to have an extremely uncomfortable conversation.

"That's what reprogramming is for," Chromia intoned dryly, as if to break the stifling atmosphere. She nudged Megatron in the side, sharper than she probably meant to. "There's also decommissioning, if you're getting too worn out for your function. Ironhide would be happy to take over your position. Come to think of it, so would I."

"Not a chance, femme," Megatron snorted, easing his seat around to take back control of _My Precious_.

Chromia tilted her chin in the air, casting the Lord Protector a narrowed look. She then regarded Sunstreaker with a careful look, assessing him in a new light that could not possibly make the poor bot any more uncomfortable than he already way. Sunstreaker found himself shrinking lower and lower in his seat until he wished the floor would open up and he could fall right through it. Once Chromia was through with her assessment, she nodded and spun around the proper way.

Elita One leaned over to shuffle Sunstreaker back into his seat the proper way. She fixed his safety harness and then buffed his cheek where she thought he could use a little shine. Her optics spoke volumes of questions she wished to ask. No words spilled from her mouthplates, and for that Sunstreaker was very grateful. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead to his mentor's, allowing his youth to show through too clearly. He sought comfort in her for something he knew he would never be able to breathe a word about.

Wordlessly, Elita One wrapped her arms around his thin frame and held him gently.

For a brief moment in time, Sunstreaker felt comforted.

* * *

Sideswipe was aware of Sunstreaker's discomfort. There was nothing for him to do about it, so he forced himself to get on with the rest of his orn. He was lucky that practice today comprised of a mindless routine he had memorized already, the movements now automatic. He let his frame jump and twist in time to the others while he let his mind wander elsewhere.

In a few orns, Sunstreaker would come home and then they would be able to talk properly. Whatever had the golden bot so spooked must be something major. If he didn't want to talk about it on the channel...

"Sideswipe, you're lagging!" Wildride called out, startling the red bot out of his brief distraction.

"Sorry!" he yelled back, instantly synchronizing with the rest of the set. Above them, lights flashed while Lightshow tested each operation, making sure everything was show-ready. Blaze's clunking footsteps were barely an echo as he travelled the catwalk making sure all of the pyrotechnics were safely hooked up and ready to detonate. Occasionally, a bang would crack the air, followed by a whistling shriek and a shower of sparklers. This was such a common occurrence that none of the performers stopped to pay mind to the pretty show.

Sideswipe cast his gaze from side to side, trying to gauge if anyone else had noticed his distraction. No one else was watching him from the corner of their optics, they were all too busy keeping up with their parts of the act. Thrillride and her lightcycles were tumbling across the arena, their bright aurora paint jobs creating a fantastical treat of the optics. Larger mechs surrounded a small platform, performing stationary tricks; flips, twists, contortions. It was a simple routine, one that was meant to be performed in between the larger, flashier tricks.

"All together now," Flip instructed, keeping an optic on all the frenetic activity.

Sideswipe took his cue and coiled up, performing a sharp back flip in time with the rest of his set. He was getting quite good with flips and other simple tricks; performing in the streets with Whistler had given him plenty of practice. He also managed to make a few credits from it when Whistler's customers offered a little extra on the price of their energon. Whistler happily handed over the tips at the end of the orn, since it had been Sideswipe who had truly earned them.

"Blindside, you're landing was too sudden," Flip called out.

"Sorry, Flip. I didn't get a good lift-off," replied Blindside while still keeping up with the rest of the routine.

"We'll try it again," Flip said, clapping his hands to end their part of the performance. Thrillride rolled to a halt, coming to her feet, only to be waved away. "No, no, Thrillride, you're doing just fine. You continue practising. I just want to work with them for a moment," Flip said, nodding to the platform where Wildride, Blindside, Flashdance, and Sideswipe stood alongside six others.

"Alright," Thrillride nodded, reverted back to alt mode to rejoin the pack of lightcycles that had gone on without her.

Flip came over to the edge of the platform. "On my mark, I would like you all to perform the proper flip, please. Blindside, be sure to get a proper lift-off this time. On my mark...go."

Sideswipe flew up at the same time as the rest of his team. The world whirled around for a dizzy moment. He came back down on steady feet just as the others found ground as well.

"Much better," Flip said with a nod. "Again please, now."

They flipped.

"And again."

Up and over they went.

"I want to see it one more time."

No one dared groan as they followed the order.

Sideswipe came back down, and then put a hand to his head to dispel the brief moment of dizziness. It was not from the flipping, he knew that. He was too accustomed to the movements to be bothered by them anymore. He knew his frame too well to have done something to upset his gyroscopic sensors.

This time, no one missed his moment of distraction.

"Getting a little too much for you, Sides?" Flashdance teased.

"It's nothing," Sideswipe said quickly, dropping his hands to his sides. He was the apprentice in the group, but he'd be damned if anyone dared think he couldn't do anything that everyone else could do. If anyone suspected that he was dizzy from his spark, they would make him sit out on the rest of practise. Not that he wouldn't appreciate the break, but he hated being treated differently from the rest of his siblings and fellow performers.

"Sideswipe," Flip called. "I want to see another flip. Front flip this time, if you please."

Sideswipe coiled down and then launched his weight, performing one neat mid-air front flip. His landing was near perfect, if not for the fact that one of his feet stepped out to catch himself when he started to lean forward too far.

"Almost perfect," Flip said. "Not good enough for a show, though. I want better."

Sideswipe revved quietly, looking away.

There came a clip-clop-clipping up the side of the platform as Flip made his way up the stairs. Sideswipe had yet to get used to the director's new frame. He did not trust the centaurian shape. Plus, the four legs confused him. Yes, there was a bot in the troupe with six legs, but that bot had always been there and now seeing six legs was perfectly natural. Flip, on the other hand, had not always had four legs and Sideswipe could not help but resent the change. He failed to understand how anyone could walk with so many legs and not trip over themselves.

"Maybe we should take a break?" Wildride suggested. "Sideswipe's still young for an apprentice and we've been working him hard."

Sideswipe bristled. "I can do anything you can do!"

Wildride's optic ridges shot up, his hands raised in defence. "Whoa there, little one. Dial it back. I was just saying we could all use a break. Nothing wrong with that."

Guilt slid into Sideswipe's tanks. "Sorry," he mumbled, scuffing his foot on the floor.

Flip finally made his way over, placing a hand beneath Sideswipe's chin to force his optics up. Sideswipe had his faceplate turned one way, and then the other. As always, Flip's gaze was enigmatic and assessing. Sideswipe knew the director was thinking of the other night when Sunstreaker had called. He had no idea how much Flip had heard out in the hallway, but he had no doubt that enough had been said to make the old bot concerned.

"You're fine," Flip announced, releasing Sideswipe's chin.

"So we can get back to practising?" Sideswipe wondered stubbornly, arms crossed.

"Yes, I imagine we can get back to practising."

"Now?" Sideswipe insisted.

"Of course, but first I would like you to go answer the door. After that, you may return to practise with everyone else."

Sideswipe wrinkled his olfactory sensor. "What door?"

A buzzer rang in the distance.

"That door," said Flip.

"_How does he do that?"_ Flashdance exclaimed in a mock-whisper to the bot standing nearest to him. Rundown shrugged haplessly in return.

"Can't someone else answer the door?" Sideswipe snorted, scowling. He did not want to go answer the door. He wanted to keep practising in order to keep his mind off of other things, like his brother.

"No, I asked you." There was cold steel in Flip's gaze, which meant Sideswipe would not win this staring contest.

"Fine. Whatever. I'll be right back." He stepped around Flip and hopped off the platform. His optics stubbornly stayed on the floor as he stalked from the arena, his foul mood mostly self-driven rather than directed at anyone in particular. On his way to the backdoor, he muttered to himself. It was mostly a collection of empty promises and silly reprimands. Next time, he wasn't going to back down when Flip used him as the errand bot. Someone else could do it. He wasn't stupid. He wasn't weak. He wouldn't stand for being treated differently.

With his foul mood following him to the door, he whipped it open and did not recognize who was on the other side. It was a femme...drone. At least, he thought it was a drone. The cheerful yellow paint was familiar. The creature did not stand straight and blank as a drone did, but hunched over nervously, pressed against the wall in the shade where no one would be likely to see her if a vehicle passed around the back of the coliseum. A vague sense of a spark signature hung in the air, but not clearly readable. Sideswipe could not help the sense that he knew the bot.

"Um...can I help you?" he asked, his bad mood evaporating.

"It's me," said the yellow bot. "Lucky Charms." Clenched in her hands was a box of relative size, too big for her palms to sit comfortably. Sideswipe recognized it as a trick-dampener that one might purchase at novelty shop. The damper could somewhat hide a spark signature for a short amount of time, but it was nowhere near as effective as the ghost-boxes and Sideswipe and Sunstreaker's possession. Lucky pressed the release button and her full spark signature registered on Sideswipe's scanners. She then pressed the button again to disappear.

"_Lucky?" _Sideswipe hissed in sudden panic, head shooting around to make sure no one had followed him to the door. None of his family was around to see. Good. He pushed the other bot farther out onto the step to give him room to join her, and then he shut the door securely behind him. It wouldn't do for anyone in the troupe to catch him with Lucky. While he wasn't ashamed of her, or of any of his misfit friends, it was clear enough by her appearance that she was from one of the lowest levels in the city, and Sideswipe doubted his family would approve of such an association.

Taking Lucky's hand and leading her away from the door, he guided her into a small alcove where they could both stay hidden.

"What are you doing here?" he exclaimed breathlessly. How long had it been since he had been to see her? Or any of his friends, for that matter? He had been keeping his distance like he had promised. Jazz was in the area, creating too much of a risk for him to wander out. Even the media was reporting on strange occurrences, though no one had a designation to pin the sudden rash of insanity that seemed to be occurring in the lower levels.

Never had Sideswipe expected Lucky to show up at his home. The clash between his normal life and his secret one was surreal. A sudden connection between two things that were once so vastly disconnected that they might as well have been on separate planets.

"Something's happened, Sideswipe," she whispered, just as nervous as he was. It had been a very long time since she had come up to the surface. Now she was discovering that sunlight and wide, open spaces were not her thing. This, however, was an emergency. She shined herself up to look as respectable as possible, used a dampener to hide her spark, and came straight to the coliseum. Luck had been on her side when Sideswipe answered the door instead of someone else. She might have ran if it had been another performer.

"What happened?" Sideswipe asked, ducking his head toward her. He grasped her upper arms, surprised to feel grooves in her left arm. He looked down and noticed the new engravings that travelled from her elbow up to her shoulder. Pipes must have gotten a hold of her with his burin. He could also feel her shaking.

"It's Whistler," Lucky croaked hoarsely.

A wave of dread passed through Sideswipe's spark. Whistler was the only mech of the group who had refused to abandon The Lot of Misfits in fear of Jazz.

"Is he... did he...?" Oh Primus, he was choking on his words.

Lucky closed her optics tight, taking a deep drag of air. "He was attacked," she whispered. "It's bad, Sideswipe. Me, Pipes, and Swerve went down to see if it was safe to move back into the lot and we found him. We don't know how long he's been down there like that."

Sideswipe jerked away from her so hard he banged into the wall at his back. His vents seized and his spark felt cold and heavy in his chest.

"I came here to tell you," Lucky murmured, unable to look at him. "I- I'm sorry I had to come here like this-."

"Don't apologize," Sideswipe begged hoarsely. "I'm glad you came."

She nodded quietly, keeping her optics on the ground. "I thought you should know what happened. Since I was the only one who knew who you really were..."

"I get it," Sideswipe breathed. He scrubbed his hand over his faceplate. His framed jerked in one direction, and then in the other. He didn't know what to do. Where to go. Lucky looked so small and in need of a hug. She was so much older than he was, and had so much more life experience than he did, but he found his arms going around her. Her head laid against his chest, her arms locking around his frame. They stood like that for several astroseconds before they mutually backed away. The walls on either side of the alcove prevented them from moving too far away.

"Can you take me to him?" Sideswipe asked, reaching down to take Lucky's hand. "Please take me to him."

Lucky stared down at his hand, her mouthplates trembling. Her whole frame trembling. "Are you sure? Don't you have more important-"

"Nothing's more important than this. Whistler is my friend," Sideswipe said, cutting her off vehemently. "I don't care what level he's from, I just want to see him. Take me to him."

Lucky sighed, frame sagging. "Alright, come on." She backed out of the alcove, optics roving in case someone was around to see them. She waved to Sideswipe. "Put on your dampener unless you want someone following us."

"Right. Right..." Sideswipe immediately whipped out his dampener and turned it on. Unlike Lucky, his spark signature completely disappeared. He ignored every other preparation he normally went through to hide himself. No grease sticks. No hiding his decals. He just had to see Whistler. If someone saw his troupe decals... frag it. He didn't care.

Lucky transformed into a lightcycle, similar to Thrillride's alt mode though the quality was not as high as Thrillride's was. Her paint was chipped and browned. She was still shaking, even when she revved her engine, activated her anti-gravity generators, and rose off the ground.

Sideswipe folded down onto his tyres, nudging her gently. "Lead the way," he said, keeping pace with his friend as she shot off down the street. Traffic moved out of their way as they merged. Sideswipe had no clue where they were going; Pipes had never gotten back to him about where he and Lucky had set up their temporary camp. They said nothing during the drive. They pushed the speed limits, but not going over just in case they got caught by Security Response.

When they got to a lift that would take them down, it was crowded and too loud. So many bots pressing in from all sides made Sideswipe feel sick. Lucky held on to his hand in a death grip. Her faceplate was a mask now. Bots learned to hide what they were feeling when they lived in Cybertron's underworld. Weakness could be exploited too easily. Sideswipe didn't have that skill. His faceplate was a mask of fear and dread. He felt himself shaking.

"This is our stop," Lucky murmured, dragging him from the lift onto a mid-level of the city. They took narrow side streets, darting through alleys. Business districts passed them by until they crept up on the industrial district. The road they drove down was deserted, butting up against the back end of a large warehouse. A chain-link fence ran down the entire stretch, hung with signs warning all bots to stay off the private property.

Midway down, on the opposite side from the warehouse, was a narrow alley big enough for a cart to hide in. As Lucky transformed, bidding Sideswipe to do so, she sucked in a shuddering drag of air and ducked into the alley. Sideswipe followed, squeezing past Swerve's massive cart. Lucky's smaller cart followed. At the end of the dead end alley was Pipe's cart, its door propped open. Swerve was sitting on the stairs, looking down at his hands. When he heard them approach, he shot to his feet.

"It's us," Lucky said, disengaging her dampener. "It's me, Lucky. I went and got Sideways."

Sideswipe raised his head, meeting Swerve's stark gaze.

"C'mere, little thing," Swerve croaked, grabbing Sideswipe up into a tight hug that took his feet off the ground.

"How's he doing?" Lucky asked, peering into Pipe's cart. "Pipes? Pipes, how's he doing?"

Pipes's dark head appeared out the door, followed by his heavy set frame. In the shade of the alley, his dark purple paint looked jet black. His expression was strained, every inch of it mourning.

"Not good, Lucky Charms," said the tinkerer, and then he noticed Sideswipe. Something like a smile appeared. "Ah, Sidesways. So you're who Lucky went off to find."

Sideswipe regained his footing on the ground, reaching for Pipes. He held the mech's hands tight.

"Can I see him?" What a painful question to ask. He didn't know what answer he wanted to hear. Yes, you can go see something that will break your spark. No, you can't go see him but your spark will break anyways.

"Go on in," Pipes murmured, shifting off the step to clear the doorway. "Try not to disturb him. He's in rough condition."

Sideswipe nodded, creeping up the steps reverently. The interior of Pipes's cart was dim and narrow; to his right was the driver's seat hidden by a curtain. To his left stretched out the rest of the cart. Modified shelves and drawers filled the entirety of one wall, containing bits and pieces of everything a tinkerer might need in the event that someone calls upon him to fix something. On the opposite side was a small table with booth seats attached to the walls. Beyond that was a small berth area where Whistler was inevitably being kept.

Sideswipe made the mistake of looking down, seeing trails of energon on the floor. Fresh energon. Beyond a thin curtain hiding the berth area came a rough cough, wet around the edges as energon came up. A weak groan cut straight through to Sideswipe's spark. He peeled back the curtain, only to whimper as he stared down at Whistler.

"Hey," croaked Whistler, trying to smile. It didn't work. The joints in his face were too damaged. "If it isn't my imaginary hallucination."

"That's me," Sideswipe breathed hoarsely. "Your personal imaginary hallucination."

"I could use some cheer," said the old bot.

Sideswipe could barely manage a fake smile.

"I look bad, don't I?" Whistler asked, though he knew the answer.

There was no point in lying. Sideswipe managed a creaky nod, followed by a shuddered drag of air. He almost started crying. He was determined not to cry. He would wait until he got outside before he started to cry.

Whistler was destroyed. It wasn't just a scratch or even a gouge. Not a simple case of getting mangled in an accident. His frame was simply _destroyed_. The aluminium foil that had covered his arms and all the places where his proper plating had rotted off was now gone, except for the pitiful jagged strips which clung wetly to oozing lines of energon. Part of his chest had been ripped open. His legs were all wrong. The joints had been smashed. Everything looked like it was pointing in the wrong direction. Even most of Whistler's faceplate was gone.

Pipes had been working to save him. Tinkerers were not medics, but they knew a thing or two about machines. They could fix things.

It was clear that Whistler was far beyond the realm of Pipes's ability to fix things.

"Can't say I didn't ask for it," Whistler sighed.

There was a metallic thump as Sideswipe dropped to his knees and crawled to the edge of the berth. He was too scared to touch his friend, so he clung to the edge. His fingers burned with how hard he was clenching the metal. The berth must have been terribly uncomfortable. There was no polymer covering. A deep groove in the middle attested to Pipes' heavy use of it.

"No one deserves this," Sideswipe gasped, holding back a sob.

"This is what ya get for being in Jazz's way," Whistler said. "I knew better."

Sideswipe's optics flashed. His mouthplates moved numbly. "You tried to fight him?"

"No," said the old merchant, shaking his head. A piece of him fell off from the side of his faceplate. Underneath was a mess of leaking blue energon and clear, viscous lubricant. Everything was twitching and writhing.

"What did you do?" Sideswipe pressed. The burning in his sparkcase rose up into his neck, into his head. He felt like he was imploding on the inside. "Whistler, _what did you do_?"

"I told ya. I was in his way."

There was a cube of high-grade sitting on the floor next to the berth. Strong high-grade by the looks and smells of things. Enough to numb the pain. It was all the anaesthetic misfits could afford.

"H-here," Sideswipe said thickly, raising the cube. "Drink this. Please."

Bright blue dribbled down Whistler's mouthplates. Some of it went in and some of it oozed out. Swallowing looked like it hurt. There probably was not enough high-grade in all the universe to make the pain go away completely.

"It's going to be okay," Sideswipe croaked. The broken promise left a bitter taste in its wake. He felt like purging.

"I know," Whistler breathed, coughing a wet chuckle. "Things turn out the way they're supposed to."

"You're going to be okay," Sideswipe said again, trying to impress that fact on the old mech.

The edges of Whistler's mouthplates curved up with the last of his strength. "How about a story, little one? Did I ever tell you...about the time I..." He trailed off into silence. His optics went dim.

"Whistler?" No answer. Sideswipe levered up higher on his knees. "_Whistler?"_

He wasn't dead. Just passed out. If nothing was done, he would be dead soon.

Sideswipe struggled to his feet, finding his legs had gone numb. He banged into the table as he past by, scattering the tools that laid across it. He was met at the door of the cart by Lucky, who took his hand and helped him to the ground. He was pushed into a sitting position. Pipes knelt to his side, wrapping an arm around Sideswipe's back.

"We know you and Whistler have gotten close since you two met," the tinkerer said. "He was really fond of you."

"_Is_ fond of me," Sideswipe corrected quickly. "He's not dead yet."

"There's nothing we can do for him," Pipes sighed.

"What about a medic?" Sideswipe asked. "Can't we bring him to a med bay or something?"

Swerve banged his fist against the alley wall. "We don't have the credits to see a medic. If we did, do you think we would be letting Whistler die in there like some forgotten piece of scrap?"

Lucky grabbed Swerve's wrist. "We don't need to be yelling at each other right now."

"How could one bot do that to another?" Sideswipe whined, putting his head in his hands. His shoulders started shaking. Long buried memories started coming up. He had never forgotten that one night in Kaon. The dirty ring with its two combatants. How a spark looked just as it was smashed into oblivion. But there had always been dam around those memories. It had never hurt as much as he thought it should. And now he felt the dam cracking. Searing knives of pain starting jamming their way into his spark.

"Jazz is a monster," Pipes said softly. "Whistler knew the risk he was taking when he stayed down in the lot."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better? Because it doesn't!" Sideswipe shot to his feet, gasping for air. He was sick and dizzy and on the verge of breaking down in a screaming, crying fit.

None of the misfits had any clue what to say to him.

"What if..." Sideswipe began, and then choked. He swallowed back the thick waves of sobbing that wanted to spill out of him. "What if you had the credits to take Whistler to a medic?"

"Then we'd do it," Lucky said softly.

Sideswipe stared down at his fists while they clenched and unclenched. He came to a decision. "Take my credits."

Pipes jerked up. "Your credits? Where would you get that amount of...?" He stopped talking, for the first time noticing that Sideswipe had a decal on his forehead. Shortly thereafter it dawned on the tinkerer where Sideswipe might actually be from.

Sideswipe held out his hand, holding it as steady as he could. A stunt like this was likely to get him in a lot of trouble. He did not even want to think of how much trouble he was going to get into. Nonetheless, he was going to do it. Some things were worth the risk.

"Take my hand, Pipes," he said.

"Sideways, think about this. If you do this, your troupe is going to want to know where it all went," Pipes said, raising both hands to back away.

Lucky was on her feet as well, hands on Sideswipe's arm to try and pull him back. "If you do this, you might not be able to come to us."

"And if Whistler dies, I don't think I could bear coming back." Sideswipe held his hand out farther. "Pipes, just take it."

"Sidesways..."

"Take it!"

Swerve reached out and wrapped one large hand around Sideswipe's, gripping it tight. In an instant, credits from the troupe's account drained into Swerve's account. Sideswipe didn't know how much to give, so he kept holding on.

"That's enough," Swerve rumbled, breaking contact when he felt like the amount was too much. He and his gang might have been misfits, but they were no beggars. He took enough to cover most Whistler's care. If any extra was needed, then he, Pipes, and Lucky would cover it. If they could get a hold of Avanti and Hubcap, the two of them would be chipping in as well.

"Let me give you more," Sideswipe side, moving to take Swerve's hand again.

The other bot pushed him back gently. "It's enough, Sideswipe."

Sideswipe gasped, but then remembered that Swerve would have seen his designation in the credit transfer.

"Sideswipe, huh?" Pipes murmured. He glanced at Lucky. "You knew?"

"I did," Lucky admitted. She wrapped Sideswipe in a tight hug. "I keep telling you that you're too good for us."

"Sometimes I think it's the other way around," Sideswipe sniffed, holding Lucky tight before letting her go. He took a shaky step back. And then another. A deep drag of air. He almost purged, but managed to keep it down.

"I think...I think I need a walk," he said, leaning weakly against the cold, dirty metal of the alley wall.

"Go home," Pipes said. "We'll take Whistler to a medic. If anything happens, good or bad, we'll find you, okay?"

"...kay," Sideswipe breathed. "But you have to promise to come get me if anything happens."

"Promise," Lucky breathed. "I promise, I'll be the one to come get you."

He nodded at her, and then nodded to Pipes and Swerve. Any one of them could run off with his credits and not look back. For all he knew, he could have just been scammed. But the look of Whistler laying on that berth would not leave his mind. It was burned into him. He trusted his friends to make the right decision...because he was about to make a very bad one.

He turned down the road and made his way to the nearest lift, intending to go as far down as it would take him.


End file.
